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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382342">The Lady of (New) Avalon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inwardtransience/pseuds/inwardtransience'>inwardtransience</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PseudoLeigha/pseuds/PseudoLeigha'>PseudoLeigha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(or a lot fucked up), (spontaneous), ...for a certain definition of 'utopia', Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everyone's a little fucked up, Founding a Utopia, Gen, James Potter doesn't deserve Sirius's love, Knights of Walpurgis, Lily is tired of faking sanity, Morals are hard okay, Nemeses are better than "friends", Or possibly mushrooms, Sex Change, The Dark Doesn't Lose, There's a fucking manifesto?!, dark!Lily (Asphodel de Mort), de Mort's gender is 'snake', grey!fem!Sirius (Asteria Black)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:53:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>264,647</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inwardtransience/pseuds/inwardtransience, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PseudoLeigha/pseuds/PseudoLeigha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Avalon is a place of dreams and stories: a land of of faerie queens and knights and ladies, a land of magic, outside of time, where everyone is free to do as they will, and the worthy never die. But the thing is, Avalon isn't real. It never was.</p><p>To accept that there is no island of knights and faerie queens, and that magic is hardly mystical, is part of growing up.</p><p>To believe that you can reach it is madness, impossible.</p><p>But Tom Riddle and Bellatrix Black have never had much respect for the concept of impossibility (or sanity).</p><p>This is the dream of the Knights of Walpurgis: to build a New Avalon, a Dark Utopia, a paradise of magic and freedom and wonder — a post-capitalist anarchy where all beings are equals in the eyes of the law, its leaders devoted to their people and ideals, and followed freely, by choice.</p><p>A journey to Avalon is never easy — the way is lost in mist: it's easy to go astray.</p><p>But then, it's just as easy to stumble back onto the path as it is to stumble off of it, and if you're noble and worthy — and above all, lucky — the gods will send a guide to help you find it again. </p><p>They probably won't tell the guide, though. Gods can be arseholes like that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Tom Riddle, Sirius Black &amp; Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Sirius Black &amp; James Potter, Sirius Black &amp; Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black &amp; Tom Riddle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>297</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>296</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Some Reflections on Gods</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Sandra's now a co-creator because I'm super lazy and hate fighting the formatting on this bloody website to post shite. So she's going to do that for me. Because I have the best girlfriend.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gods are fucking arseholes.</p>
<p>This is a fact. Not up for debate.</p>
<p>Other facts about gods: </p>
<ol>
<li>They are petty bitches</li>
<li>Every one of them thinks that <em>their</em> goals are <em>the most important thing</em>
</li>
<li>They think human morality and the ideas of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ we like to ascribe to them are “adorable, duckie, just so...<em>quaint”</em>
</li>
<li>Their favourites tend to be madmen and/or psychopaths, because they’re more relatable than normal, sane humans, easier to talk to, and more entertaining
<ul>
<li>Mortals favoured by gods also tend to be fucking arseholes</li>
</ul>
</li>
<li>If you have the misfortune to be a normal person they’ve taken an interest in, it’s probably because they’re going to use you to accomplish some esoteric goal. They just swoop into your life without warning, manipulate you into changing the world whether you want to or not, and bugger off leaving you to deal with the consequences.</li>
<li>Did I mention they are arseholes? Because I really feel this point cannot be overstated.</li>
<li>Also, vengeful. It’s pretty difficult to piss off most gods, but if you do, you’re fucked. </li>
</ol>
<p>See, gods <em>know </em>that mortals suffer, when they use them to their own ends. The things they demand of the mortals they use tend to be difficult and painful, to say nothing of the costs of standing so close to power they were never meant to wield. Some might even say that the <em>value </em>of the work accomplished is in its difficulty and the pain their tools must suffer through to accomplish it. For their favourites, though, they will ensure that someone else pays those prices (for five-hundred years the House of Black served the Dark and prospered against all rational expectations), their lives and happiness worth infinitely less than the favoured few. Like, someone who pissed them off. </p>
<p>Or, if they’re feeling particularly sadistic, offending them means you just volunteered yourself for whatever tasks they may need doing — again, whether you want to help them or not — and make no mistake, if there are consequences for the actions you are forced to take in their service, they’ll be on you.</p>
<p>And it doesn’t happen often, but occasionally one of their favourites will betray them.</p>
<p>That’s what I did. </p>
<p>I broke the Covenant between the Dark and the House of Black, attempting to devote myself instead to the Light, its pro-social opposite. </p>
<p>Gods, as it turns out, think it’s just adorable when rebellious humans (children, all of us, in their eyes) think that they can run away from their own nature. (They’re really fucking patronising about it, too.) Breaking the Covenant as a tangible <em>fuck you </em>to the House of Black was probably the most selfish, short-sighted, overly-dramatic thing I could have done at that point in my life, and the Dark is never offended by <em>breaking shite</em>. (<em>Obviously</em>. Or, well, it seems obvious in hindsight.) If your soul belongs to a god — and mine, no matter how I try to deny it, does — they don’t let it go easily. You will be punished, and when you’ve earned their forgiveness for your attempted transgression (even if you <em>didn’t want </em>their forgiveness), you will continue to serve their ends. Because if it comes down to it, even the gods’ favourites are only mortals — pawns and playthings, like enchanted chessmen. Sure, we might argue, we might try to resist, but we move where they dictate, in the end.</p>
<p>The only thing I accomplished in attempting to turn away from the Dark was a false sense of freedom, and the upending of my entire life as it dragged my thread and all those tied to it from their intended place in the Tapestry of Fate, changing the pattern in ways no mortal can truly comprehend. But make no mistake: what is is not what was always meant to have been. </p>
<p>In breaking the Covenant between my House and the Dark, and the time of hormonal teenage impulsivity and Madness that followed, I simply paved the way for the birth of its new Chosen People: the Lords and Ladies of New Avalon. </p>
<p>(8. Gods are proud, stubborn bastards. If it looks like they’re going to <em>lose</em>, they’ll change the game.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. It was really all a big misunderstanding. (Also, I blame Asphodel.)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This chapter is largely identical to the chapter "Falling" in Coming of Age in the House of Black, setting the scene for the departure from canon in the next chapter.</p>
<p>..."Canon" herein being my headcanon version of events which could have led to the *actual* canon situation in 1981.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Technically, the story starts when I was seven years old — when I, <em>being a child</em>, and excited about participating in my first <em>real </em>ritual, broke The Rules, telling my little brother all about it. He was too young to be trusted not to speak of it out of turn. (As too was I, obviously. I was old enough to be <em>expected </em>to know better, though.)</p>
<p>My father, being the <em>exceptionally </em>stable and well-balanced individual that he was, flew off the handle, as one does. If Bella hadn’t intervened, he <em>might </em>not have killed me. But it’s entirely possible that he might have. I suppose I could ask Asphodel, but I don’t really care enough to do so. As things went, Bella did her duty, stepping in to fight him on my behalf, and when our Head of House called a furious stop to their duel he took a Parthian shot at me, probably to hurt <em>her —</em> Bella herself was always invincible, like a hero out of legend.</p>
<p>That <em>would</em> have killed me.</p>
<p>But, like a hero out of legend, she saved me, calling on the Dark to burn his curse from my soul. But there’s always a price for every action. <em>Consequences</em>. My magic was as dark as hers, or that of anyone else in the House, but I was a <em>small child</em>, my body and soul hardly prepared to withstand such an assault. From that day on, it hurt to cast dark magic. </p>
<p>And from that day on, as my family continued to insist that I do so anyway, following the traditions of the House, I grew to hate them. As I began to grow old enough to make choices for myself, I always took the path which seemed most likely to lead me away from them; and the more obvious it was that I wanted nothing to do with them, the more deeply they dug their claws into me.</p>
<p>After nine years of torture and resolute refusal to allow me to leave, I had had enough. I broke the Covenant, realigned my magic to serve the Light, and left them for good...or so I intended at the time.</p>
<p>In reality, it was a matter of mere months before circumstances aligned — <em>entirely </em>coincidentally, I’m sure — to force me back into their arms, or at least Bella’s. (And when it comes down to it, Bella <em>is </em>the House of Black, really.) This is where the story <em>really </em>starts: the Twenty-Ninth of August, Nineteen Seventy-Six.</p>
<hr/>
<p>The Gryffindor House Back-to-School Party was an event not to be missed.</p>
<p>For most, it was a celebration — meeting up with friends again after long months apart, with stories to tell and gifts from vacations, and reunions with boyfriends and girlfriends of whom one’s parents did not approve. It was a last hurrah before classes began, and the dry spell that would last for the next two months, until Quidditch started up again and they celebrated or mourned the outcome of the first match of the season. As soon as Minnie said her piece and the new firsties were safely tucked away in their dorms, firewhisky flowed freely, courtesy of Wormtail’s Hogsmeade smuggling operation; Sirius and James sweet-talked the kitchen elves into sending up all the leftovers from dessert; and Remus pulled the new prefects aside to discuss the advantages of turning a blind eye, just for one night. Couples who hadn’t seen each other for weeks pulled each other into corners and armchairs before the fire, making up for lost time, and someone started passing around cannabis and dragonsbreath and a damn good quality bottle of Wyrm and an envelope of muggle acid — that shite that made you hear colors (<em>never again</em>) — along with the usual cigarettes, and some new “happy pills” to get you high.</p>
<p>For Sirius, it was like coming home. He had spent the last month of the holiday with the Potters, and had no intention of returning to Grimmauld Place, <em>ever.</em> His former parents and Arcturus seemed to be completely on-board with that plan of action. Charlus and Dorea had received a very formal letter from Arcturus, informing them that he would not contest their custody of Dorea’s godson; that Regulus was the new Heir of Black; and that Sirius personally was disinherited and disowned by his parents, though not the Black family. If he wanted to redeem himself in the eyes of his Paterfamilias, all he had to do was marry a pureblood witch and have a nice little pureblood baby to carry on the name — his children could claim his cadet allowance when they came of age.</p>
<p>He had burned the letter after a single read-through. Declaring for the Light and breaking the Family Covenant with the Dark had been intended to burn his bridges with them entirely. His first act as a free man, once he got over the combined effects of the ritual and Walburga’s Cruciatus (which hurt, but nothing like as bad as Bella’s), was to send letters to his Uncle Alphard (who was similarly disinherited) and Andromeda, wherever she might be, to inform them that he had joined them in exile. Alphard had been fairly reserved in his response, obviously torn between congratulating Sirius for taking a stand against his parents’ demands and reprimanding him for breaking the Covenant. (Though not <em>too</em> harshly, because everyone could see that the House of Black had been run into the ground by Arcturus and Cygnus and Orion, and even Alphard himself, through his negligence, long before Sirius had done anything.) He hadn’t heard back from Meda yet, but she was officially his favorite cousin now anyway.</p>
<p>Dorea had sent a scathing response back to Arcturus, informing <em>him</em> that if he <em>had</em> contested her custody of Sirius, she was fully prepared to have argued his incompetence as a guardian <em>and</em> as a Head of House before the entire Wizengamot, and that if Regulus ever wanted to abandon the sinking ship that was the House of Black she would gladly do the same for him. Charlus had added that they would be asking their allies to dissolve all business arrangements with the House of Black, because they could not be associated with any family that condoned the use of Unforgivable curses on its own children.</p>
<p>Sirius had never felt so loved in his life.</p>
<p>The last month of the summer was the best he’d ever had. Remus and Peter came to join them at the Potter estate, and they spent two weeks exploring fields and forests and nearby muggle towns, flirting with muggle girls and acquiring Sirius’ new favorite thing: a motorbike. He had big plans for that bike. His NE Runes project was going to be enchanting it to fly. He’d never been happier. Quite frankly, he wished he had run away <em>years</em> ago.</p>
<p>And now he was back at Hogwarts, where he <em>belonged</em>, with all his friends — only sixth-years, but they were already kings of the castle — and there was a party, and he was <em>so</em> high (for future reference, Wyrm <em>or </em>happy pills, not both), and a bit drunk, and Marley McKinnon was shirtless and giggling on his lap, their row last spring seeming very far away, and— Was that Evans dancing on a coffee table with Ellie Adams and Cat Zuthe?</p>
<p>Bloody hell! It was! They were doing some sort of sexy strip-tease thing, with the light of the fire behind them and— Where was James? He was <em>missing</em> it!</p>
<p>Sirius looked around, but he was distracted as Marley snogged him forcefully, before she was dragged away by her roommate, Mary, and then Evans was in front of him, straddling him, sitting on his knees in her short, <em>short</em> muggle skirt, bare tits in his face, smelling like strawberries and sweat and three kinds of smoke, and grinning like the two of them were in on some great cosmic joke that the rest of the world wasn’t allowed to know about.</p>
<p>It was hard to remember why he didn’t like her when she let her hair down and removed the stick from her arse and acted like <em>that</em> instead of her usual sly, stuck-up, prissy prefect self.</p>
<p>She leaned in close and whispered, “Do you want me, Sirius?” Her lips were so close that he could feel them against his ear, and then she started nibbling at his neck, and Ellie and Cat were still on the table, soft limbs wrapped around each other, Cat’s dark hands in Ellie’s blonde hair, and Evans was rocking her hips against his saying, “I think you do,” with a smile like a siren song — <em>fuck me, fuck the world, fuck it all and let it burn</em>.</p>
<p>“Where’s James?” he asked, the words only a little slurred.</p>
<p>She kissed him, and he tasted whisky before she pulled away with an innocent shrug, so at odds with that kiss and those eyes and the mischief in her tone. “Not here.”</p>
<p>Almost everyone was asleep or passed out, or else completely occupied by their own trips or each other. James’ distinctive, messy hair was nowhere to be seen, nor Remus’ disapproving glare. He thought that might have been Pete, passed out by the fire with Mary and Marley, but it was hard to tell from this angle, and he really didn’t care.</p>
<p>“I can’t — you— Jamie...”</p>
<p>She ignored his weak protests, wrapping strong fingers in his hair and twisting just enough to make his cock twitch, forcing her tongue into his mouth, and biting his lower lip hard enough that he tasted blood. “Fuck James Potter!” she said, coming up for air. <em>Fuck me, fuck the world</em>. “I’m not his fucking property, you know,” she whispered in one ear. She kissed him again, more gently, moving to the other, and added, “And neither are you.” Another kiss, a brush of teeth against his already swollen lip, and her hips were moving again, and he’d probably regret it in the morning, but when she asked again, “Do you want me, Sirius?” grinning like <em>nothing matters, fuck it all</em>, he flipped them so that he was on top and snogged her back, like setting his life on fire and dancing in the flames as the whole world burned to ashes all around him.</p>
<p>He didn’t know how his trousers and her knickers made it to the floor, didn’t know how long they moved together, couldn’t remember if they used a contraceptive charm, and couldn’t care less if they’d put on a show for the entire common room. The world faded out in a haze of sex and drugs, as the sky outside started to grow light and some Irish muggle album on the turntable played: <em>guess who just got back today, them wild-eyed boys that'd been away...</em></p>
<hr/>
<p>He woke up gasping and confused, with someone pinching his nose, after what had to have been only a couple of hours. Remus was looking down at him like he had done something irreparably fucked up.</p>
<p>“What the bloody <em>hell</em> do you think you’re doing?” he whisper-yelled.</p>
<p>“Uhh...”</p>
<p>“<em>Lily Evans, </em>Sirius! You couldn’t’ve hooked up with <em>any</em> other girl?!”</p>
<p>That was the point when Sirius looked down and realized that he had, in fact, done something irreparably fucked up. He scrambled free of her arms and the couch, yanking his trousers back on as quickly as he could.</p>
<p>Evans groaned as she was forced to roll over, winced at the light and the sight of her fellow prefect’s judging eyes, and grumbled something about <em>Molly</em> and <em>bad life choices</em>. “Are there any more hangover potions in the stash?” she asked Remus, trying to brush her hair out of her face and cover her tits.</p>
<p>There were fingerprint bruises on her arms and hips, and love-bites on her breasts and neck. Oops. He assumed he looked just as bad, or Remus would have been telling him off about being too rough or offering her sympathy or something. Instead he was answering her question coldly: “Most people aren’t up yet.”</p>
<p>“Ugh, take a chill pill, Remus!” she complained, fetching her blouse from a lamp by the fire.</p>
<p>“I will <em>not</em> take a chill pill! Thanks to you I had to take a fucking Sober-up to deal with fucking James Potter drunk off his arse and moaning about how you and Sirius betrayed him for the last three hours!”</p>
<p>Sirius’ blood ran cold. “James? Is he okay?”</p>
<p>“We came back from a resupply run and found you two curled up here on the couch. What do you think? He spelled himself into the bathroom with a half-fifth of whisky and I haven’t had time to break down his wards, what with being a little busy being the only semi-responsible person in the tower, <em>apparently</em>,” he added, the last comment clearly directed toward Evans.</p>
<p>“Oh, no, don’t you dare blame this on me, Remus Lupin! I get one night a year off from babysitting all your drunk arses. You and Paul and Felicia agreed to take care of shite last night if I took the lead on the end of year party! It was your fucking idea, in case you forgot!”</p>
<p>“I didn’t think you were going to get high and bang Sirius!”</p>
<p>“What, you think I <em>planned</em> that?! You’re as paranoid as he is!”</p>
<p>“I’m not <em>paranoid!”</em> Sirius snapped, trying to decide if it would do more damage to go break down Jamie’s wards on the bathroom and apologise, or if he would be even angrier to see Sirius so soon. “Seriously, though, Remy, I wouldn’t put it past her...”</p>
<p>“Oh, shut up,” Evans sneered, an expression that wouldn’t have looked out of place on her greasy-haired, wanna-be Death Eater ex. “Remus, I’m going to get a potion and a shower, and <em>if</em> you’ve pulled your head out of your arse by the time I get back, I <em>might</em> help clean up.” She stalked off before either of the boys could respond.</p>
<p>The werewolf’s furious glare turned to him, instead.</p>
<p>“Remus, she came on to me — you have to believe me, mate!”</p>
<p>The taller boy growled under his breath. “Sirius, I don’t <em>give</em> a fuck which one of you started it! The only reason I care is that I don’t want to get caught in the middle of you and James having a fucking row over a girl who doesn’t even like <em>either</em> of you.”</p>
<p>“I don’t like <em>her</em> either! <em>Fuck!</em> What the fuck do I say to James?”</p>
<p>“Do I look like I know? You’d better think of something though, and go break into the bathroom so I can get Pete into the showers. I think Mary threw up on him, and I do <em>not </em>have the focus right now to vanish that shit.”</p>
<p>Sirius groaned, but started trudging toward the stairs. At least that settled the question of whether he should wait or try to apologize immediately.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Two weeks later, after Sirius skipped three days of classes in a row, lying in bed with the curtains sealed because he couldn’t stand seeing James anymore and how he had fucked up fucking <em>everything</em>, Peter decided he had had enough. After everyone else left for class, he ripped Sirius’ curtains completely <em>down</em>, stripped the blankets off the bed and levitated Sirius into the shower by his ankle. He sputtered under the cold spray as Peter shouted at him.</p>
<p>“You haven’t been to a meal in a week, Siri! Did you even get out of bed yesterday? We’re <em>worried </em>about you! You missed Runes <em>twice</em>! I told everyone you had some intestinal shite and couldn’t leave the loo, but if you’re not back in class by Monday, Pomfrey is going to come track you down!”</p>
<p>“Go <em>away</em>, Pete,” he moaned. “Let me down and <em>go away</em>.”</p>
<p>Pete dropped him on his head, still under the cold water, still shouting. “I will <em>not</em> go away! Remus keeps saying to give you your space, but it’s obvious you’re getting <em>worse</em>, not better, so obviously that’s <em>not working</em>.”</p>
<p>“You don’t <em>understand!”</em> he moaned, righting himself clumsily.</p>
<p>“What I understand is that you fucked Evans, had a row with Jamie, and fucking dove head first off the deep end! Not eating! Skipping classes! Skipping <em>Quidditch trials</em>?! When was the last time you bathed? You smell like a fucking dog! You need to get your shite together!”</p>
<p>“I fucked up everything, Pete,” he mumbled. “Fucking <em>everything</em>.” Fuck, he was crying. Sitting in a cold shower <em>crying</em> while <em>Peter Pettigrew</em> told him to get his shite together. Like it was that fucking easy.</p>
<p>“What the bloody fuck are you on about, you mad cunt? You <em>are, currently, at this very moment,</em> fucking up everything! Three days of classes, Sirius! It’s only a matter of time until someone tells McGee and they drag you off to St Mungo’s! Jesus Christ! What the fuck are you thinking? <em>Are</em> you thinking?” He chucked a potions vial at Sirius. “Drink that and wash your goddamn hair — you look like fucking Snivelly!”</p>
<p>He sniffed at the vial, heedless of the fact that he was letting water drip into it, then capped it and set it aside. “I don’t need it,” he said petulantly. “I’m fine. Just leave me <em>alone</em>.”</p>
<p>Pete snorted. “Yeah, totally fine. When was the last time you ate? I bet you don’t even remember. Drink the goddamn nutrient potion or I’ll knock you out and dump it down your unconscious throat you stubborn son of a bitch!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, trying to stand and brush past his smaller friend, but he got dizzy and slumped back under the water.</p>
<p>The next thing he knew, he was waking up in the Hospital wing.</p>
<p>“Doesn’t look like he’s been keeping much down, the poor dear,” Pomfrey was saying to a concerned-looking Pete. “Low blood sugar, you know. You were right to bring him in. This is why I’m always wary of those ‘intestinal bugs’ — it was an emetic curse, and a right strong one too, if it’s lasted this long. Well, we’ll have him right as rain in a jiff now we’ve got to the core of the problem. Just a mo’...”</p>
<p>She bustled off down the ward as a girl came in covered in some kind of green slime.</p>
<p>“What the hell, Pete?” he hissed.</p>
<p>“You did this to yourself, Siri! I’m done covering for you! I have to get to class. I’ll come back after dinner.”</p>
<p>Peter did come back after dinner, and brought Remus, too, but that left plenty of time for Sirius to think and pick despondently at the plates Pomfrey kept setting in front of him and ignore her fussing over possible lingering traces of the emetic curse Pete had used to cover up the fact that he hadn’t been ill. There weren’t any, he just wasn’t hungry. Watching the events of the first week of school play over and over behind his eyes, seeing everything going wrong, again and again, made him so miserable he didn’t want to eat.</p>
<p>It had been bad.</p>
<p>James had still been drunk when Sirius broke into the bathroom on Sunday morning. Sirius had tried to apologize — said he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t want her, blamed it on the drugs and the alcohol, told James that <em>Evans</em> had come on to <em>him</em> — but James had repeated over and over that Sirius was the worst fucking excuse for a friend, and it <em>had</em> to’ve been Sirius’s fault, because Lily hated him just as much as James, and Sirius had to’ve been planning this all along, gotten her drunk and suggestible and waited until he and Remus were gone. Sirius had stood there and took it, until James slurred something about this being the thanks he got for inviting Sirius into his home and he should just get the fuck out.</p>
<p>That one hurt, probably more than all the rest of it combined. He knew James was drunk and angry, but, well... Drunk words are sober thoughts, and James never had been very good at sharing. It didn’t really surprise him that his best friend secretly resented his coming to crash with the Potters permanently. It <em>did</em> surprise him that he would throw five years of friendship out the window over one, stupid, drunken mistake. To be honest, he'd thought that after James had time to cool down and Sirius apologized again, it would all blow over.</p>
<p>It didn’t.</p>
<p>The first week back had been all "get lost, Sirius," and "you should have known better, Sirius," and "I don’t want to talk to you, Sirius." By the following weekend, when James told him not to bother showing up on Wednesday for their monthly rendezvous at the Shack, it'd started to sink in that this, like everything involving Lily Fucking Evans, was something that James was not capable of being reasonable about.</p>
<p>In one fell swoop, the red-headed bitch had managed not only to drive a wedge between himself and his best friend, but his brother in all but name and — yes, he was about 90% certain now — the man he <em>loved</em>.</p>
<p>He hadn’t been back to the Great Hall since he realized it, because going back to that place reminded him of that moment, and made him feel outright <em>sick</em>.</p>
<p>It wasn’t that they were both blokes — he’d had plenty of wizards, not a problem in the least — or that they were like brothers. Gods and Powers! It would have been <em>less</em> awkward to fall in love with his <em>actual </em>brother! At least he didn’t have to <em>see</em> Reggie every day, didn’t have to try to sleep lying three feet away from him and knowing that he <em>hated</em> him. Fuck! He hardly <em>knew</em> Reggie anymore — hadn’t spoken to him, really, in years. He would be a much more appropriate crush than his best friend!</p>
<p>No, the <em>problem</em> was that James wouldn’t even <em>look </em>at him!</p>
<p>And the worst part was, he hadn't even fucking <em>realized </em>that he wanted him until he went off on Evans in the Great Hall on Sunday, and she'd slapped him and hissed, “This is for the lakeside,” and stalked off and James went to her — <em>to her</em> — and was all, "are you okay?" and "ignore Sirius, he’s a dick." She'd smirked at him like, <em>Yes, I knew </em>exactly <em>what I was doing,</em> and walked away with Jamie trailing after her, and he just felt so <em>overwhelmingly jealous</em> that James was with <em>her</em> and not with <em>him</em>—</p>
<p>And that was when he'd realized: it wasn’t just that she was a stuck-up, manipulative slut who inexplicably reminded him of Narcissa and somehow managed to have the entire fucking school wrapped around her little finger. He hated her because he wanted James to himself.</p>
<p>He was jealous of Lily Fucking Evans, because she had James Potter’s eye — because she could afford to spurn him at every turn, and he would <em>still</em> go chasing after her, when he wouldn’t even acknowledge Sirius’ existence in class!</p>
<p>And Sirius actually <em>cared</em>.</p>
<p>He had never felt this way about <em>anyone.</em></p>
<p>It was a revelation.</p>
<p>If he'd had it at any other time, he would have been thrilled.</p>
<p>Well, maybe not <em>thrilled.</em> He might have felt like an idiot for not figuring it out sooner. He might have felt awkward, falling in love with his best friend, who was head over heels for a bitch who wouldn’t even give him the time of day. He might have been a nervous wreck because James had never showed any sign that he was even open to the idea of other guys — had, in fact, been slightly uncomfortable with the idea every time it had come up over the past five years. But he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been fucking miserable because he'd fucked it all up before he even knew there <em>was</em> anything to fuck up. Because he definitely had — Jamie apparently <em>hated</em> him, now. He kept giving Sirius the sort of looks that he used to give Snivellus, like he was some sort of fucking <em>competition</em> for Evans’ affections.</p>
<p>Not that she, in fact, <em>had</em> affections, seeing as she was clearly some sort of selfish demonic entity incapable of human emotion outside of manipulating everyone and everything around her. Remus had said it was no wonder she slapped him after saying that to her face, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t <em>true</em>. That was probably the thing about her that reminded him of Narcissa — except he'd grown up with Narcissa and knew her weaknesses, while <em>Evans</em> didn’t really appear to have any.</p>
<p>Well, except Snivellus.</p>
<p><em>For the lakeside</em>. Ha! He would have been willing to bet <em>anything</em> that she knew about the shite he'd been pulling on them all year — that Polyjuice stunt, for one! He was sure it wasn’t a coincidence that, six of the eight times, <em>she</em> was the one who'd caught them hexing the fake firstie. She <em>had</em> to be in on it! Snivels had deserved every <em>second</em> of humiliation they had doled out!</p>
<p><em>And</em> he was almost <em>positive</em> that they were still friends, just pretending they weren’t. He'd followed her while everyone else was at dinner on Monday, wanting to have it out with her, but she locked herself in a room on the seventh floor behind some kind of anti-eavesdropping charm, and he had been curious enough to stick around to see who she was meeting up with after she left — none other than the greasy dungeon bat himself! <em>And</em> they still sat together in Slughorn’s class. Yes, there was a seating chart, but the fat old git liked both of them well enough that if they had asked to be separated he would’ve done it.</p>
<p>James wouldn’t listen when he tried to tell them later that she was sneaking around. He just kept right on talking to Remus about their plans for the night of the full moon, like Sirius wasn’t even there. He'd decided that it wasn’t worth it to get out of bed on Tuesday — he had already been told he wasn’t wanted on their monthly Marauder romp, and now it was like James was determined to pretend he didn’t even <em>exist</em>. He'd stayed there on Wednesday, too, telling Peter to cover for him because he wasn’t feeling up to class. On Thursday, he'd told Remus to ask James why he hadn’t come out with the others the night before, and sealed the curtains to make it easier to ignore the prefect’s whining.</p>
<p>He’d heard Pete being concerned about him Thursday night, and Remus saying that he’d get up and come downstairs when he was hungry, and Pete pointing out that he hadn’t been to the Great Hall since Sunday. James had said shirtily that he’d probably been having an elf bring him meals or going straight to the kitchens, and that he, <em>Sirius</em>, was just trying to manipulate them for attention, before he stormed out. Davey Gudgeon said something about telling Minnie, and Remus said to just leave him alone.</p>
<p>Apparently, though, Pete didn’t agree with that particular tactic.</p>
<p>So now, here he was, in the Hospital Wing, with Madam Pomfrey breathing down his neck about fucking <em>food</em>, and <em>dehydration</em>, and whether he had any idea who might have done this to him, in only the second week of term — and of course he told her he suspected Snivelly, <em>pro forma</em>, but Pete’s words kept echoing around his head: <em>“You did this to yourself, Siri!”</em></p>
<p>Because he <em>hadn’t</em> done this to himself. Lily Fucking Evans had done this to him. Perfect Prefect Evans, golden girl muggleborn extraordinaire, had completely fucking outmaneuvered him, and he hadn’t even seen it coming.</p>
<p>And then it came to him: the way to get back in James’ good graces <em>and</em> make Evans suffer all at once.</p>
<p>It was so simple. He didn’t know how he hadn’t seen it before.</p>
<p>All he had to do was find some way to get rid of Snape!</p>
<p>It was perfect!</p>
<p>He would be able to show James that he — Sirius — was still on James’ side — that he was <em>helping</em> with the wooing of the Evans bitch, getting rid of James’s <em>actual</em> rival once and for all! It wasn’t like she was actually going to go for James, anyway. He’d figure that out eventually. If he didn’t, well...one thing at a time. Once James was speaking to Sirius again, he was <em>sure</em> he could convince him of it.</p>
<p>And as for Evans, well, she had taken <em>his </em>best friend from <em>him</em>, so he would take <em>hers</em> from <em>her</em> — tit for fucking tat, right?</p>
<p>Perfect!</p>
<p>Now all he had to do was work out the <em>details</em>.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Two weeks later he was ready. James was still pretending that he didn’t exist, but having a goal, a plan to win him back, at least as a friend, had given him the confidence to shrug off the pain of being fucking <em>ignored</em> with something close to his old devil-may-care attitude.</p>
<p>“Are you sure about this?” Pete asked, threading his way through the stacks.</p>
<p>“Yes! He’ll look like he was trying to break into the Shack, he’ll get expelled for sure! Where is he?”</p>
<p>Peter consulted the half-completed map in his hand. It showed all the locations of the people in the castle, thanks to Remy tricking Evans into helping him tap into the school wards, and the library and the Great Hall, their dorm, the Gryffindor commons and most of the broom cupboards, thanks to Peter’s brilliant idea to get around unplottability by layering a tracking spell into a shield spell, and turning the whole thing into a runic enchantment that could be cast to create a detectable shell <em>inside</em> the unplottable wards. Mr Wormtail couldn’t cast for shit, but he was a hell of a theorist. Now all they had to do was find a way to deal with the moving staircases and passages. If they made the “map-mark” self-replicating or integrated it <em>into</em> the wards of the castle, it could even spread through the parts of the Castle they couldn’t get into, like the Slytherin dorms, but both of those options were easier said than done.</p>
<p>In the meanwhile, though, the Map <em>did</em> show that ‘Severus Snape’ was located, unmoving, about ten meters north-northwest from their current position. Pete pointed.</p>
<p>“You remember the plan?”</p>
<p>The plan was fairly simple, for all it had taken ages to figure out exactly the right details. Snivellus would need a <em>reason</em> to try to get through the wards on the Shack. Those wards were meant to keep humans <em>out</em> (except Remus, who was specifically keyed in), and Dark Creatures <em>in</em>. Madam Pomfrey or Minnie added a paling every night of the moon so that Remus couldn’t leave after they escorted him in but before the moon rose, and then they left. The paling expired at moonset or sunrise, whichever happened first, and Remus made his way back through the tunnel unless he was too injured to do so, which hadn’t happened since they'd started keeping him company a couple months before their OWLs. They could slip right in in their animal forms, but there was no way Snivels would be able to do so.</p>
<p>He would give up after a while, but the stubborn git would definitely keep after it long enough for Sirius to tip off Minnie that he had seen the Slytherin lurking around the Whomping Willow: <em>I heard he’s been asking questions about it, claiming he saw Remus and Madam Pomfrey head out there, too — absurd, of course, isn’t it? I mean, why would Remus and Madam Pomfrey be out by the Whomping Willow? But, well... Anyway, Professor, I think Snape must’ve done something to the tree — it didn’t seem to be moving, and then he just disappeared...</em></p>
<p>Snivellus would be caught <em>well</em> out of bounds, trying to break into an obviously secured area…</p>
<p>They just needed the right lure to get him there. He knew that the Slytherin knew that they had a supplier for alcohol and assorted other useful things from Hogsmeade. He knew that Snivels had more or less deduced that Peter was in charge of it. Thinking that he was going to get Sirius in trouble for being behind it all would probably be too good for him to resist. Being a Slytherin, Sirius figured the dungeon bat was <em>much</em> more likely to go poking around himself in the hopes of getting something blackmail-worthy on Sirius than to just tell a professor. If he took a few of his closest Death Eater friends along with him, so much the better. Even if he <em>did</em> tell a professor, he’d look like an idiot when it became clear there was no smuggling ring operating out of the Shrieking Shack — that business went down exclusively in the Honeydukes basement — and Sirius could work on finding some other way to get him chucked out.</p>
<p>“<em>Yes</em>, Siri! I remember the goddamn plan!”</p>
<p>“All right, then let’s go.”</p>
<p>They drifted closer to Snivellus’ corner, striking up a whispered conversation when Sirius judged that they were in range.</p>
<p>“<em>Please</em>, Sirius — you have to go! I’m going to fail the Transfiguration exam if I don’t study, and <em>someone</em> has to meet him! I’ve already placed the order! If we don’t show up with the money, fat chance we’ll ever get another delivery!”</p>
<p>“Why can’t James do it, or Remus?”</p>
<p>“Keep your voice down, damn it! James already agreed to help me study, and you <em>know</em> how Remus feels about being a prefect — he needs his plausible deniability about where that sort of stuff comes from.” Pete sounded genuinely irritated.</p>
<p>Sirius groaned. “I had <em>plans</em>, Pete!”</p>
<p>“Reschedule! Unless you want to completely screw us over for the First Match party. It’s next week or never.”</p>
<p>“Fine. <em>Fine</em>. Ryan’s a bitch anyway. What do I need to do?”</p>
<p>“We’re supposed to meet at the Shrieking Shack at seven-thirty on Friday the eighth. If you leave right after dinner, you should get there in plenty of time.”</p>
<p>“Why the fuck would you choose to meet at the Shrieking Shack, of all places?”</p>
<p>“No! That’s the clever part, see? There’s this tunnel that goes straight there. He told me about it. You just have to poke that big knot on the Whomping Willow with a stick or something, and it opens up a passage between the roots. The limbs freeze and you just walk straight in — no worries about getting caught halfway back, no one keeping watch for contraband coming in, it’s perfect.”</p>
<p>Sirius sighed. “Fine. Seven-thirty?”</p>
<p>“It takes like fifteen, twenty minutes, maybe, to walk there. Just go right after dinner. I’ll cover for you.”</p>
<p>“Alright. I’ll do it.”</p>
<p>“Thanks, mate.”</p>
<p>They made their unhurried way back toward the main study area, doing their best to look legitimately inconspicuous. Snivellus oozed out of the library a few minutes later, and they shared a high-five under the table.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Sirius left dinner early on the night of the full moon. He needed to stake out the Willow to make sure the Slytherin actually went into the tunnel before running to tip off Minnie. Pete found him just after seven, sprouting up from his animagus form and instantly complaining that he hadn’t been able to find James anywhere, so they’d just have to intercept him here. The plan would hardly work if James alerted the target before he could be intercepted.</p>
<p>They were doing impressions of Snape trying to poke the knot without getting whomped when Prongs pranced out of the trees.</p>
<p>“Pete? I’ve been looking everywhere for you. And what is <em>he </em>doing here?”</p>
<p>“Well I’ve been waiting for you, we have to wait,” Peter explained. “Siri sent Snivels down to get caught trying to break in — we’re going to tip of McGonagall and finally get him expelled!”</p>
<p>James’ eyes grew wide. “You did <em>what?!”</em> he addressed Sirius directly for the first time in weeks.</p>
<p>“I’m on your side, Jamie! I don’t know how else to prove it to you!”</p>
<p>“Remus and I finished putting in that ward gate last night so that I don’t have to transform in the fucking tunnel!”</p>
<p>It was always a chore for Prongs to get through the door at the other end of the tunnel, what with the enormous antlers and deer not being made for crouching <em>at all</em>. He had been talking about punching an undetectable hole in the anti-human ward since the very first time they'd sneaked in, but he definitely hadn’t mentioned that they’d actually <em>done it</em>. Well, he hadn’t mentioned <em>anything</em> to Sirius all month, but apparently he hadn’t told Pete either, because he echoed, “You did <em>what?!”</em></p>
<p>Sirius couldn’t help but snigger. “So Snivels is just going to walk straight into the Shack with a transformed werewolf? Brill. Well done, James. I had just meant to get him expelled, but dead works too.”</p>
<p>“No, it doesn’t! They’ll find the ward gate—” Pete started, but James cut him off: “And <em>Remus! </em>With a dead body!<em> Remus would be a murderer! </em>Are you fucking <em>insane?!”</em></p>
<p>“I—”</p>
<p>“No! Don’t answer that! I’m going to stop him — Pete, go get McGee <em>now</em>!”</p>
<p>Pete turned and ran back toward the school, as James banished a rock into the knot and skidded into the tunnel. Sirius stood, frozen, staring after James for a long moment before turning to follow Peter up to the castle at a much less hurried pace. If Jamie wanted to save his rival’s life, well then, he was on his own. Sirius had gone to a serious amount of effort to take care of the git for him, and <em>this </em>was the thanks he got? Talk about ungrateful, running in and ruining the Plan.</p>
<p>Sirius wouldn’t stop him, but he certainly wasn’t going to try to help.</p>
<p>It wasn’t like <em>James</em> would be in any danger from Remus, and honestly, he didn’t see what was so wrong with letting Snape walk in and get himself killed anyway. Remus was right where he was supposed to be — it wasn’t like <em>he</em> would have done anything worth being punished for, even if he did maul the dungeon bat. And they could pin the ward gate on Snape: <em>Oh, he must have been working on getting in there for ages... Must’ve really thought there was something worth finding on the other side... Can’t imagine what he thought it was.</em> It’d be his word and Jamie’s and Pete’s against a dead, greasy Slytherin weirdo — even the other Snakes didn’t like him, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time until he fell in with the Death Eaters. A little lying, a tragic accident, and the Snape Problem would be solved, no one’s fault but his own. Easy as pie.</p>
<p>Oh! Unless he lived... Maybe he ought to go back after all and finish him off, just in case. Padfoot’s jaws were about the same size as Moony’s. If he ripped out Snape’s throat and threw an Eternal Wound Curse over the marks, they’d read as werewolf bites, and that was if anyone even looked into it — after all, werewolf plus dead, mangled body is pretty easy arithmancy. The idea of having <em>any </em>part of Snape in his mouth, even as Padfoot, was disgusting, and it would hurt to cast the curse, because it was dark as fuck, but he would do it if he had to.</p>
<p>But no, Jamie had already run off to play hero, so that wasn’t even an option anymore, and he was almost back up to the school anyway.</p>
<p>Pete had run the whole way, and though he was far less fit than any of the other Marauders he was fast when he wanted to be. He and Minnie were making their way onto the grounds just as he arrived at the nearest door.</p>
<p>Minnie was talking very quickly, though she froze for a half-second when she saw him, her face turning murderous. “Mr. Black! You will report <em>directly</em> to the Headmaster’s office <em>at once</em>. Mr. Pettigrew, accompany him! You are not to make <em>any </em>detours — and don’t you even <em>think</em> about trying to do otherwise, the portraits will be keeping an eye on you!”</p>
<p>“Jeez, yeah, fine, Minnie — Dumbles’ office. Password still Chocolate Frog?”</p>
<p>“Ooh, you have a lot of nerve, me laddie! Get going!” She transformed into her animagus form and sprinted away across the lawns toward the Willow.</p>
<p>“What the hell is <em>her</em> problem?”</p>
<p>Pete just shook his head, looking at Sirius like he was a stranger or something. “Come on,” he said, leading the way back up into the school.</p>
<p>Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk when they stepped through the door at the top of his staircase, as he always had been every time Sirius had gotten caught doing something spectacular enough that Minnie decided it warranted the Headmaster’s intervention.</p>
<p>“Ah,” he said, in that grandfatherly way that Sirius had come to appreciate over the years, though he didn’t quite trust it. “Sirius, Peter. What brings you to my humble office this evening, my boys?”</p>
<p>He just shrugged, while Pete said, “Professor McGonagall sent us up, sir.”</p>
<p>“I see...” His eyes twinkled, and there was a brush of legilimency against Sirius’s mind — the reason he didn’t entirely trust the grandfatherly façade. He batted it away, raising an eyebrow at the Headmaster. He really <em>shouldn’t do that</em> to anyone, <em>especially</em> anyone raised by the Old Families. Peter stiffened beside him as he repelled his own probe. Sirius was impressed, not for the first time, at how well he'd taken to occlumency, considering he had only started learning about three years before and they mostly had to practise with boggarts, since the only legilimens they knew were Snape and Dumbledore. Sirius and James had been taught when they were very young — and Remus too, to control his emotions around the full moon — but Peter hadn’t heard of it until they began the animagus project. Being able to hide their pranking exploits more effectively was really just a bonus.</p>
<p>“Well, we’ll just wait and see when she gets here, I suppose,” Dumbledore continued, as though he hadn’t just tried to legilimise them. “Dew drop?”</p>
<p>“Don’t mind if I do,” Sirius said cheerfully, helping himself to a hard candy, alongside Pete. They had a bit of Lemon Soother aftertaste, but it wasn’t like they were <em>harmful</em>, and he had a suspicion that he’d need the calming potion to deal with Jamie when Minnie finally dragged him in as well, the prat.</p>
<p>Dumbledore returned to whatever he was writing. Sirius kicked his heels against the legs of his chair. Pete must have been nervous, because he was mainlining the fucking candies. He was on his fifth when Minnie showed up, with both Jamie and a sadly unharmed Snivellus. Looked like he was back to the drawing board on that one.</p>
<p>Dumbledore greeted them and conjured more chairs, offering dew drops to all before he settled back in his chair. “So, Minerva, what seems to be the problem?”</p>
<p>“These...<em>students</em> know about Mr. Lupin’s...condition.”</p>
<p>“I would be surprised if they did not,” the Headmaster said tranquilly. “They are his friends, after all.”</p>
<p>“I’m no friend of <em>theirs</em>,” Snivels inserted.</p>
<p>Dumbledore nodded at him. “With the notable exception of Mr. Snape.”</p>
<p>“They tried to <em>kill</em> me,” ‘Mr. Snape’ spat.</p>
<p>“Oh, come off it, Snivellus! It was just a bit of a prank!”</p>
<p>“I suppose you thought it was <em>funny</em>, telling him to prod that knot and see if he’d walk straight into a werewolf’s safehouse?!” Minnie nearly shouted.</p>
<p>Well, kind of, especially since he’d thought there would be wards in place to keep him out, but he knew that tone — it would be best not to try to defend himself at the moment. “Erm...no?”</p>
<p>“’No,’ he says — ‘no,’ it’s not funny to try to kill your fellow students? I’m so glad we’ve got that cleared up — after you got caught! Tell me, were you planning to let Mr. Lupin take the blame for the murder?!”</p>
<p>“What? I only meant for him to have a bit of a scare, maybe get expelled for being out of bounds!”</p>
<p>“That’s not what Mr. Pettigrew told me earlier,” she fixed Peter with a gimlet stare.</p>
<p>“That’s not what happened! He was in on it!”</p>
<p>With both Sirius <em>and </em>Minnie glaring at him, Peter cracked. “You said dead was just as good as expelled, Siri!”</p>
<p>“I can’t believe you sold me out!”</p>
<p>“You need <em>help</em>, Sirius!”</p>
<p>Snivellus snorted.</p>
<p>“You shut up, you greasy git! No one asked you!”</p>
<p>“Seeing as I was very nearly <em>lured to my death </em>earlier this evening, I think I shall feel free to <em>volunteer</em> my opinions tonight...<em>Black</em>.”</p>
<p>“Pete’s right, Sirius, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore,” James butted in.</p>
<p>“I– you— I did this for you!” Sirius raged. “He’s still seeing Evans! You should’ve just let him die! He’d’ve been out of the way and then you could go back to trying to win her over, and everything would be like it used to be!”</p>
<p>“Sounds like a confession to me,” the Slytherin git glared.</p>
<p>“Oh, please! If I wanted you dead, you’d’ve been dead years ago!”</p>
<p>“<em>Mr. Black!</em>” Minnie interrupted, “You will <em>hold your tongue</em>!”</p>
<p>“He’s a fucking <em>Death Eater!”</em> Sirius ignored her.</p>
<p>The Slytherin scum slid his left sleeve up and flashed his sallow forearm at the Headmaster before giving Sirius a two-fingered salute. “I’m not the one whose favorite cousin is shacking up with the Dark Lord!”</p>
<p>Sirius ignored him as well. <em>“AND</em> he was only down there in the first place because he was trying to get us in trouble!”</p>
<p>“I rather <em>doubt</em> you are so concerned about Mr. Lupin’s safety and well-being, seeing as you nearly made him a murderer this evening, Mr. Black!”</p>
<p>“We all know there were wards! He shouldn’t have been able to get in!”</p>
<p>“And that explains why your former best mate thought it necessary to chase me down, body-bind me, and drag me away from a fully-transformed werewolf? Pull the other one, Black!”</p>
<p>“Mr. Snape!” Minnie began, but the git cut her off.</p>
<p>“He’s already admitted he would have seen me dead, professor! He intended to have me die in a tragic ‘accident’ — if Lupin hadn’t killed me, would you’ve gone back and finished me off yourself?” He must have looked briefly guilty, because the Slytherin sneered. “That’s what I thought! Admit it! You’re just like the rest of your family, <em>Black!”</em></p>
<p>“I am <em>not!</em> I’m nothing like them! I didn’t— I did it for you, James! Peter, tell them!”</p>
<p>Peter shrank into his chair as James denounced him. “I never asked you to— Why? Why would you possibly think I wanted...? Sirius, Pete’s right, you need help — you haven’t been right since we came back to school, maybe before. Maybe we should’ve listened to Mum when she said we ought to take you to a mind-healer after you escaped. There could be complusions or, or—”</p>
<p>“I don’t need a bloody <em>mind-healer!</em> I’m not mad!”</p>
<p>“So sayeth the would-be murderer!”</p>
<p>“Shut <em>up</em>, Snivels! This isn’t <em>about</em> you!”</p>
<p>“<em>My</em> murder <em>isn’t about me</em>?! You—”</p>
<p>Dumbledore cleared his throat and cast some sort of silent silencing charm on all of them. It was much harder to break than the simple <em>tacitus</em> Bella used in lessons. Sirius struggled fruitlessly against it as the old man said, “Peter, would you be so kind as to repeat for me exactly what you told Professor McGonagall?”</p>
<p>All eyes turned to Peter, Sirius’s glaring impotently.</p>
<p>Peter looked around the circle of chairs nervously before he admitted, “Sirius and I said, where we knew Snape would overhear, that if he went down the passage under the Willow, he’d find his way out to the Shack, and how to get in. We made it sound like one of us would be there doing something illegal so he would think he could get us in trouble, but really we were waiting for him to go out of bounds so we could get <em>him</em> in trouble. But then James showed up and said it was dangerous and we shouldn’t go through with it, and Sirius said that his being dead was as good as being expelled — same difference, like. And then James said he was going to stop him — Snape, that is — and told me to go get Professor McGonagall, and I did.”</p>
<p>That was...technically true. Still a sell-out, but not as bad as he had thought at first. Sirius shifted his glare from Peter to Snape.</p>
<p>“And James, my boy — did you believe, when you rushed in to save Mr. Snape, that he was truly in danger?”</p>
<p>“Erm...yes? I mean, it <em>is</em> full moon, and Remus <em>is</em> a werewolf, and we didn’t <em>know</em> that there were wards in place— I mean, erm... It sounds like Sirius <em>assumed</em> there were, but he didn’t <em>check ahead of time</em> to make sure.”</p>
<p>Sirius switched from glaring impotently at Snape to glaring impotently at James. How <em>dare</em> he make it sound like this was all Sirius’ fault? <em>He </em>wasn’t the one who had altered the wards for the sake of his own fucking <em>convenience</em>. If James would’ve just fucking talked to him instead of pretending he didn’t exist, like a fucking <em>child</em>, none of this would’ve ever happened. And implying that he needed a mind-healer? <em>Bastard! I’m not mad, you git, </em>he thought as loudly and clearly as he could, in James’ direction.</p>
<p>The Slytherin smirked at him, obviously having ‘overheard’ it, but it was Sirius who would’ve had the last word, assuming he could currently speak. Dumbledore said, “Ah, a true Gryffindor. I am certain you shall make a noble successor to your father’s legacy someday.” He sighed, and James preened slightly. “I think we have the full picture now — don’t you, Minerva?”</p>
<p>“If by that you mean Black recklessly sending Snape into a dangerous situation, Potter barreling in to rescue him with no thought for his <em>own</em> safety, and Snape only being there in the first place due to some absurd desire to further his feud with these boys, then yes, I think we are on the same page, Headmaster.”</p>
<p>The smirk dripped right off the oily git’s face. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.</p>
<p>“Mr. Snape,” Dumbledore said, in his Disappointed Grandfather tone. “I am afraid we shall require you to swear secrecy before we may allow you to leave tonight.”</p>
<p>Minerva was nodding, and James looked relieved. Snivels looked <em>furious</em>.</p>
<p>“We cannot allow you to reveal poor Mr. Lupin’s status to the castle at large — just think the damage it would do to the boy’s future.”</p>
<p>At that, it seemed Snape was finally allowed to speak, or else his rage finally overwhelmed the silencing spell.</p>
<p>“He. Almost. Killed. Me!”</p>
<p>“In fact, he did not, though you and Mr. Potter both most certainly believed he did —and as such, I suspect you may owe Mr. Potter a life-debt. However, Mr. Lupin is every bit as much a victim as yourself.”</p>
<p>“He’s a bloody <em>werewolf!”</em></p>
<p><em>“Through no fault of his own</em>. Humor an old man for a moment, Mr. Snape... Just imagine what your own life would be like, if you were...<em>unable</em>, for some reason, to complete your NEWTs — if you were unable to find legitimate employment due to the wrong word dropped in precisely the wrong ear...” There was a heavy beat of silence, wherein Sirius had to resist the urge to applaud the Headmaster’s subtlety. “That is the position in which your revelation of Mr. Lupin’s condition to any other person might very well place him. I’m afraid that I cannot take that chance, given that he is not at all at fault, either for this night’s events or for his unfortunate condition.”</p>
<p>Snape had frozen, perfectly still and unreadable, as soon as he registered the implied threat to his own education and employment prospects. Sirius didn’t really see how it mattered, seeing as the Slytherin git was <em>obviously</em> destined to be one of Bella’s little Death Eaters, but apparently he thought it did because he drew his wand and bit out an oath, as though every syllable hurt. “I, Severus Snape, vow upon my honour not to disclose my knowledge of Remus Lupin’s status as a werewolf to anyone who does not already know.” A spark appeared at the end of his wand and drifted up to the crown of his head as it became binding.</p>
<p>James snorted, doubtless at the idea that Snivels had any honour to swear upon, but Dumbledore cocked his head to the side and nodded.</p>
<p>“May I leave then, Headmaster?”</p>
<p>“Not quite yet, Mr. Snape. There remains the issue of your punishment for being out of bounds, after all.”</p>
<p>“<em>Sir</em>?” Sirius didn’t think he had ever heard such disbelief and disdain condensed into a single syllable.</p>
<p>“I believe the precedent for being caught out of bounds before curfew is a week’s detention.”</p>
<p><em>“Detention</em>. You’re giving me <em>detention.</em> Because Black <em>tricked</em> me into <em>nearly getting eaten</em> by a <em>werewolf?!”</em></p>
<p>“Of course not, my dear boy! No, no, no — your detention is for leaving the school grounds without permission. I’m afraid that continuing your little feud with your classmates is no excuse for such truancy. I shall inform Mr. Filch that you are to serve your detentions after dinner, every night beginning tomorrow.”</p>
<p>Snape seemed to struggle for a moment before he said, “May I go <em>now</em>, sir? I find myself a bit...shaken, and would like to stop by the Hospital Wing before bed.” The Slytherin’s hands were indeed shaking, but Sirius would have bet anything that it was from rage, not fear. Detention was like...adding insult to injury. It was pretty funny, actually. It was probably a good thing that he was still unable to make a sound, because he suspected laughing wouldn’t go over too well at the moment.</p>
<p>“Very well, my boy. Just remember your vow, won’t you? That’s a good lad.”</p>
<p>Snape looked from one face to the next with hatred in his eyes, before sweeping from the room without another word.</p>
<p>“Mr. Pettigrew, you may take your leave as well,” Dumbledore added as the door slammed closed. “Minerva, would you mind summoning the Potters for me? I believe they are acting as Mr. Black’s guardians at the moment?”</p>
<p>Sirius nodded, and Minnie said, “Of course, Headmaster,” moving to the floo. Peter gave a pathetic little wave as he slipped out of the door, and then Charlus and Dorea arrived, and Sirius was finally un-silenced, and did his best to explain everything without actually admitting his feelings for Jamie. After that, the evening turned into a blur of hugs (Charlus), well-meaning but condescending advice that might have been helpful three weeks prior (Dorea), apologies (Jamie), more hugs (also Jamie), a small amount of crying (Sirius), and arranging for Sirius to visit a mind-healer for the next few months (everyone but Sirius, whose protests that he was fine were overwhelmed by Dorea’s insistence that every single scion of the thrice-cursed House of Black needed to see a mind-healer, and there was no shame in it).</p>
<p>At the end of the night, everyone seemed pleased, or at least hopeful. Sirius smiled hopefully along with them, but felt absolutely wretched, because a) Jamie kept looking at him with this hideous look of <em>pity</em> whenever he thought Sirius wasn’t paying attention to him, b) he <em>fucking hated</em> legilimency, and people fucking around with his mind, which was, to the best of his understanding, pretty much exactly what mind-healing entailed, and c) he wasn’t supposed to have to put on a fucking show and live up to expectations for the Potters, and now here he was, doing the same thing he always did — with a different mask and a different family for completely different reasons, but it felt exactly the same — like a lie that he didn’t quite <em>want</em> to get away with.</p>
<p>Dorea dragged him through the floo, positively chattering about getting him an appointment with her friend John in the morning, and Charlus promised that they would return him in time for classes on Monday — and Jamie just watched them all go, looking every bit as helpless and overwhelmed as Sirius felt.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Fuck being Sirius Black. (This is also Asphodel's fault.)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sirius, being the incredibly rational, clear-thinking individual he is, decides that his life is no longer worth living.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>8 October, 1976</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>Sirius lay on his bed in the guest room Dorea had let him redecorate last Christmas (after Bella crucio’d him in front of the entire fucking family), staring at the ceiling and trying not to think. It wasn’t working very well. Attempting to roll over to stare at a wall instead, sending the mattress sloshing and making waves that rocked him around for a moment before settling, didn’t really help.</p>
<p>He’d thought it was a great idea, when he’d first come up with it, to make something like those muggle water beds Ellie had told him were becoming all the rage, make that the centerpiece of the room. Unlike his bedroom at Grimmauld Place, which he’d intended to be as obnoxious and offensive to his (former) mother’s sensibilities as possible, plastered with muggle pin-up girls and Gryffindor House memorabilia, this room was <em> quiet</em>. The walls and carpets were dark — charcoal and a deep, heart’s blood red — the bed recessed into the floor and the cupboards into the walls. The ceiling was absolutely <em> black</em>, a blank canvas for whatever light paintings he might feel like doodling as he lay in bed, trying to fall asleep.</p>
<p>He <em> hated </em> it.</p>
<p>He didn’t know what he’d been thinking.</p>
<p>Okay, he <em> did </em> know what he’d been thinking, that he wanted something <em> completely different</em>, different from the baroque monstrosity that was Grimmauld and the busy mess that was the dorm room he’d shared with seven other boys for the last five years, something that reflected the pain of Bella’s betrayal, and acknowledged Dorea’s interpretation of that night: that he was old enough to take care of himself now. Bella wouldn’t have attacked him like that if she didn’t think he was. So he’d designed this room to be simple and elegant and mature (and mourning), and now he hated every fucking thing about it.</p>
<p>He hated every fucking thing about his <em> life</em>.</p>
<p>He didn’t understand how everything had gone so <em> wrong </em> — his plan to get rid of Snivels and prove his loyalty to Jamie had completely fallen apart. It hadn’t worked, Snivels was still alive and at Hogwarts while Sirius was exiled from everyone who mattered until...he didn’t even know. Had Charlus said they’d take him back on Monday? He thought he might’ve done. Two days. An <em> eternity</em>. Jamie hadn’t even <em> appreciated </em> it, had looked at Sirius like he was a bloody madman, like he didn’t recognize him; Dorea was going to make him talk to a mind healer (he <em> hated </em> legilimency, <em>hated </em> it); and this was somehow even <em> worse </em> than lying in his bed up in Gryffindor Tower, because at least <em> there </em> no one cared about him, no one was worried about him — well, <em> Pete</em>, but if Sirius was being honest, Pete didn’t matter. No one else had noticed that he hadn’t eaten for the better part of a week, hadn’t spoken to any of them or gone to classes, hadn’t gotten out of his bed except to piss, and then only when everyone else was asleep or in class or otherwise having a life. Or if they had noticed, they hadn't <em> cared</em>. ( <em> Jamie </em> hadn’t cared — he’d thought Sirius was being stubborn, asking the elves to bring him food and hiding himself away for attention, when really it was anything but...)</p>
<p>But here, he could feel the weight of Dorea’s concern fucking suffocating him with expectations, obligating him to pretend, whenever she saw him, that he was better now, or at least he understood that what he'd done was wrong, that he wanted to <em> get </em> better. That he wasn’t miserable and didn’t hate himself, and didn’t think, really, that he might be better off dead. That the world would be a better place if he just hadn’t been born.</p>
<p>Or, if he hadn’t been born Sirius Black, at least.</p>
<p>He could’ve been a muggleborn, or a squib even, and his life would be better, he was pretty sure. </p>
<p>If Cygnus had been his father instead of Orion, he would never have been cursed, and Bella would never have had to save his life and fucking <em> cripple </em> him in the process. Granted, Cygnus probably would have done equally Unforgivable things to him as he had to Bella — everyone <em> knew </em> Bella had killed him, and why, too. But his mother wouldn’t have hated him — not <em> personally</em>, at least — and he wouldn’t have been a disappointment to them all. Not that he <em> wanted </em> to live down to their twisted, dark expectations, but sometimes he thought it would be easier if he could. Just forget trying to be good, trying to be a person Jamie would like, instead of the mad, sadistic fuck-up he knew himself to be, really.</p>
<p>It didn’t matter anyway.</p>
<p>Jamie would never like him. Not like Sirius liked <em> him</em>.</p>
<p>And the worst part was, Sirius hadn’t even realized it until it was too late, and he’d already irreparably fucked up <em> everything </em> for a few minutes of hedonistic pleasure. From out in the cold, it was only too clear how much it meant, being at Jamie’s side. He would do <em> anything </em> James wanted of him, just to be <em> with </em> him, in some capacity. He <em> loved </em> him, okay? Like, cut your heart out, take a killing curse for him <em> love</em>. Like all those stories he’d always thought were just exaggerating for, you know, <em> literary effect</em>, or whatever — like he might <em> actually die </em> if James didn’t acknowledge him.</p>
<p>He wondered, very uncomfortably, if this was how Bella felt about de Mort, because if it was... Well, if it <em> was </em> , then he got it. He did. He would <em> definitely </em> start a war if Jamie wanted him to, okay. If that was what it took to get his attention, to make him <em> see </em> Sirius for...for anything other than just his best mate. (At this point even for Jamie to just see Sirius <em> as </em> his best mate again, really. He had no shame, there were no depths he wouldn’t sink to, he knew it.)</p>
<p>But he never would. Even if he eventually forgave Sirius’s stupid, drunken, lustful betrayal, James would never see him the same way Sirius saw James. Like he was the centre of the fucking universe. The centre of <em> Sirius’s </em> universe, at least. And...that was fine. It really was. He didn’t <em> need </em> James to love him back, not like <em> this </em> — honestly, he’d never wish <em> this </em> on his worst enemy (Gods and Powers, was this how Snivels felt about <em> Evans </em> ? The poor, <em> poor </em> slimeball...) — this was <em> insane </em> , he <em> knew </em> that, and it <em> hurt!</em> He just wanted, <em> needed </em> James to let him back in. Let him be...whatever James wanted him to be. More. Everything. He wanted to be everything James wanted.</p>
<p>Not that <em> that </em> would ever happen. The most he could hope for — the most he could long for, really, <em> wish </em> for, because there really was <em> no </em> hope at all — was that James would let Sirius love <em> him</em>, be his companion, his lover, and even that—</p>
<p>Sirius <em> really </em> didn’t get it, how some people — a rather alarming proportion of people outside the House, really — had such a strong preference for one sex or the other that they wouldn’t even <em> consider </em> a lover with the wrong bits. And Sirius, according to James, had the wrong bits. Even when they were roughhousing and wrestling, excited, hearts pounding, an inch or two from kissing, James didn’t find him attractive (or so he claimed). Because he was male.</p>
<p>If he’d been born a girl, he thought, he might have had a chance. In his deepest moments of self-loathing, he would admit to himself — <em> had </em> admitted to himself — that he and Evans were not really so very different. She would fit <em> right </em> in with his family, honestly, aside from the whole mudblood thing. If arrogant, stuck-up, sarcastic bitches who could kick his arse were Jamie’s type, the only part of the description Sirius was missing was the cunt. (And possibly also the boobs, but he wasn’t deluding himself — if he <em> were </em> a girl, he’d probably look just as androgynous as he already did, just, in the opposite direction.)</p>
<p>If he <em> were </em> a girl...</p>
<p>Okay, that was a mad idea.</p>
<p>Completely fucking mental.</p>
<p>He’d be upending his <em> entire life </em> for– for just a <em> chance</em> — and there was a <em> good </em> chance that Jamie would think this was just as horrifying as him trying to get Snivels expelled but also being completely fine with him being dead (light wizards could be awfully...squeamish, about blood magic) — and...</p>
<p>And he <em> knew </em> it was insane, and it <em> still sounded like a good idea</em>.</p>
<p>Because his life was <em> already </em> completely fucked up — he’d broken the Family Covenant with the Dark, run away from home, fucked his best mate’s girl, was on the verge of failing all his classes because he hadn’t been to a lesson in <em> weeks</em>, and everyone (everyone who mattered) was now <em> fully aware </em> that he was just as mad as any other member of his notoriously insane family. Dorea was going to make him talk to a bloody <em> mind healer</em>, which, <em> no </em> good could come of <em> that</em>. He didn’t <em> need </em> someone fucking around in his mind, he just needed— He needed Jamie to acknowledge his existence, to just fucking <em> see </em> him, that would be a good fucking start.</p>
<p>And it <em> was </em> a chance, the slightest glimmer of hope. And it would be something <em> different</em>, something <em> new</em>, even if Jamie <em> still </em> thought Sirius was insane, and didn’t <em> want him</em> want him, he would at least <em> have </em> to understand that Sirius wasn’t trying to get with the bloody Hellflower — not that <em> Evans </em> was opposed to fucking girls, she and Cassie had been fooling around for ages, but James, being so ridiculously discriminating himself, tended to be a bit blind to everyone else not giving a fuck as long as they were getting fucked.</p>
<p>And he wouldn’t have to go to the mind healer if he wasn’t here in the morning.</p>
<p>That alone might’ve been enough to get him out of bed and dressed, honestly. Though...he wasn’t really sure where to go after that. There was Lorelei, he guessed — Dorea’s mother was not-so-secretly a blood alchemist, the Lestranges had a reputation for a reason — but Lorelei would probably march him right back through the Floo and tell Dorea that he’d lost his fucking mind even more thoroughly than usual. Bella, of course, probably wouldn’t care, but he wasn’t about to go asking <em> her </em> for any favours. He could go to Aquitania, he knew blood alchemy was actually <em> legal </em> there, he could probably just find a professional to do it...if he had money, or knew anyone. And they’d probably want to know <em> why</em>, and probably wouldn’t do it <em> just because, okay, does it really matter? </em></p>
<p>Oh! Zee! Zee would know someone! Zee knew <em> everyone</em>, really. And she’d been around the House long enough to just accept the mad shite they came up with and go along with it. Or at least, he assumed so — she <em> had </em> been kind of sort of <em> with </em> Bella since Sirius'd been, what, <em> three</em>? <em> Including </em> the entire time she'd been married to whatshisface. Despereaux, that was it. So she <em> had </em> to have come to terms with the Black Madness ages ago.</p>
<p>“Mirabella Zabini’s Residence,” he said quietly, throwing a pinch of Floo powder into the smouldering coals in the main fireplace. Green flames flared to life, and without another thought, he stepped into them.</p>
<p>For a brief moment, he thought she wasn’t going to let him in — obviously he wasn’t keyed into her wards, why would he be? — but just as he thought he was going to get bounced to the nearest public grate, the wards released him to stumble onto her hearth rug, sneezing from the ash. And a few seconds later she appeared in the doorway, tying a tiny dressing gown loosely around her waist — gold silk making her olive skin seem darker and more exotic in the dim light of the dying fire, drawing the eye to the dip between her breasts, slipping open just enough as she stepped forward to give the most tantalizing hints of shadows beneath (really, it would’ve drawn less attention if she were just nude...which was probably exactly why she wasn’t) — giving him a <em> very </em> unimpressed raised eyebrow of disapproval. “Good morning, Sirius. To what do I owe the pleasure?”</p>
<p>“Oh, the pleasure is <em> all </em> mine,” he murmured, mostly out of habit, letting his eyes skim over the long, smooth length of her legs. She’d <em> obviously </em> been in bed, there was a flat spot in her hair and her eyes had that slightly unfocused, not quite awake yet thing going on, but she was never <em> not </em> the sexiest witch he’d ever met.</p>
<p>“Yes, it is. Why are you calling on me at—” She quickly checked the time. “—half past one in the morning?”</p>
<p>He winced. He’d kind of forgotten that she probably wouldn’t be up in his rush to...well, do something. <em> Anything</em>. “I...need a favour. Or maybe just a name, I don’t know.”</p>
<p>“I’ve been awake for all of two minutes. Please don’t make me guess.”</p>
<p>“I need someone to turn me into a girl.”</p>
<p>She blinked at him, scrunching idly at the flat spot on the side of her head. “Er...human transfiguration isn’t really my strong suit. Aren’t there potions for that?”</p>
<p>“No, not— <em> Permanently</em>.”</p>
<p><em> That </em> got her attention. <em>“What? </em>Sit,” she said, directing him toward the nearest chair with a nod, and sinking onto the sofa opposite. “Care to explain the sudden urge to get in touch with your feminine side?”</p>
<p>“Not really, no.”</p>
<p>Zee fixed him with a flat, annoyed glare. “Well, you woke me up in the middle of the night to ask for a favour, so tell me or get the fuck out.”</p>
<p>...Right. “Well, okay, it’s kind of a long story, but, there’s this guy, James...”</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m aware of your pathetically obvious unrequited crush on the Potter boy,” she interrupted impatiently.</p>
<p>“Was <em> everyone</em>— No, never mind. Just— I did something stupid, okay, and he won’t talk to me even though I came up with a great plan to get rid of his mortal enemy, and it’s <em> not </em> my fault he almost died <em> or </em> that he <em> didn’t actually </em> die, but it’s been <em> weeks </em> and I’m fucking desperate, okay, and—”</p>
<p>Zee frowned at him, all disapproving and judgmental. Oddly so, he thought. It wasn’t like Snivels had <em> actually died</em>. And it <em> also </em> wasn’t like she’d actually <em> care </em> if he did — she didn’t even <em> know </em> the slimy snake. “So, in an effort to get this boy’s attention, you’ve already attempted to murder someone, and now you’re seriously pursuing a sex change?”</p>
<p>Sirius felt himself going hot in the face. It did sound slightly...excessive, when she put it that way. “<em>Maybe</em>.”</p>
<p>“You <em> do </em> realise those aren’t the sort of courting gifts you give to sane people, right?” she asked, a definite note of concern in her voice.</p>
<p>He groaned. “This was a stupid idea, coming here. Never mind, I’ll... I’ll figure it out for myself, okay. Sorry I woke you.”</p>
<p>He was about halfway out of his chair when she said, “Sit back down.” He sat. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t help you, I’m just saying, he’s not going to appreciate this. Granted, I haven’t met the boy, but assuming he’s not significantly more insane than either of his parents, he’s probably going to find it a bit overwhelming that you’d go to such lengths for him. By which I mean, to be perfectly clear, he will most likely be somewhat repulsed by the gesture.”</p>
<p>“Well, I wouldn’t tell him I did it for <em> him</em>, obviously.” He’d learned his lesson about <em> that </em> from Jamie’s reaction when he told him that the plan to get rid of Snivels was all for him.</p>
<p>A smile twitched at the corner of Zee’s lips. “So, you’re going to try to convince him you did it for yourself?”</p>
<p>“I— Well...” Honestly, Sirius hadn’t really considered how he was going to present it yet. Maybe pretend to be a cousin transferring in, say Sirius had gone on holiday trying to get his head on straight or something. Or, depending on how different he looked after, he might just go back and pretend nothing had changed and it wasn’t a big deal <em> at all</em>, really. “Is it really so big a leap to believe I wish Sirius Black had never been born?”</p>
<p>She sighed. “And I don’t suppose it will help to remind you that when you inevitably come down from this little bout of madness and realise that this was all in vain and will have long-lasting consequences that you haven’t properly considered, you won’t be able to undo it?”</p>
<p>“Well it’s not like I’m going to <em> regret </em> it.” If it came down to it, Sirius didn’t think he’d ever regretted anything, and even if he <em> did</em> he was <em> sure </em> this was a good idea. Or, well, he knew it probably wouldn’t actually fix things with Jamie, but he <em> had</em> to do it, or at least <em> something </em> to shake up...<em>everything</em>, because things, his life as it was was <em> unbearable</em>. “And unexpected consequences are what makes life fun. So, no.”</p>
<p>She sighed (again). “Sometimes you remind me of Bella so much it hurts.”</p>
<p>Sirius had <em> no idea </em> whether that was intended as a compliment or an insult. She mostly just sounded <em> tired</em>. He just sat there for a moment, waiting for her to give him a hint.</p>
<p>“Alright, come on,” she said, rising from her couch with languid, practised grace.</p>
<p>“Um, come on, where, exactly?”</p>
<p>“Well, you didn’t think I was going to do this <em> myself</em>, did you? Because if you hadn’t noticed, I’m <em> hardly </em> an expert blood alchemist <em> or </em> a ritualist.”</p>
<p>“So, wait, you’re actually going to help me?” he asked incredulously, scrambling to his feet.</p>
<p>“Well, I <em> assume </em> you’re entirely unwilling to be dissuaded, and that therefore if I refuse you you’ll run off to Knockturn or Paris and do something even more foolish, so, yes.” Okay, that <em> definitely </em> sounded disapproving. (But she was helping him, so he didn’t care even a little bit.)</p>
<p>She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and, before he could remind her that she wasn’t wearing real clothes, spun them in a tight circle, dragging Sirius into the sickening crush of apparation space and out again without any hint of where exactly they were going.</p>
<p>Which was apparently... What the actual <em> fuck </em>?</p>
<p>“Zee, I distinctly recall someone telling me it’s rude to apparate into someone else’s bedchamber in the middle of the night,” Bella said drily, not looking up from the bed where she lay, face down and topless, de Mort hovering over her with a scalpel — Sirius didn’t even want to know, he really, <em> really</em>— Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? He inched closer, trying to get a better look at the design the snake-faced Dark Lord — not even trying to look human, here in the privacy of his and Bella’s bedroom — was carving into her back. Something geometric, it looked like.</p>
<p>“That only applies to people who sleep,” de Mort informed her. "Good morning, Mirabella."</p>
<p>“Mm, yes, what he said. Thom. I assume at least one of you knows a permanent sex change ritual?”</p>
<p>“At least one of us knows several." </p>
<p>"Brill. I'm going back to bed before Danny realizes I'm gone and starts thinking I'm stepping out on him."</p>
<p>"Could just kill him and get it over with," Bella muttered.</p>
<p>"Not yet, it's suspicious if they die too quickly — and besides, I like sneaking around. It's fun." </p>
<p>She disapparated before Bella could tell her that was completely ridiculous, or Sirius could ask her not to talk about killing her husband in front of him. He <em> was </em> seriously considering becoming an Auror. Unless...did they take recruits who had obviously used blood magic on themselves? It <em> was </em> really fucking illegal, so... Maybe they'd believe he'd gotten it done on the Continent. Or, well, it was probably a moot point, actually — they wouldn't take him at the moment because he was failing his NEWTs. Maybe he'd just try out for the professional duelling circuit like Lovegood was talking about...</p>
<p>"Good morning, Sirius. Or should I say... Have you already chosen a new name for yourself?”</p>
<p><em>“De Mort</em>,” Sirius muttered, trying not to let his hatred of the evil bastard leak into his thoughts, but he was pretty sure he was doing a shite job of it.</p>
<p>“Sorry, Siri, that one’s taken. Also, not particularly feminine,” Bella noted, rolling onto one elbow to look at him. “I hate to break it to you, but if breaking the Covenant didn’t get you disowned, turning yourself into a girl <em> definitely </em> isn’t going to work.”</p>
<p>“That’s not <em> why</em>—”</p>
<p>De Mort chuckled, even as Sirius cut himself off, trying to come up with a way to explain <em> why </em> without sounding like a complete lunatic. “I’m sure you’re aware there is absolutely <em> no </em> way to explain yourself without sounding exactly as mad as you are. Not that you need bother. Bella doesn’t care, and I already know.”</p>
<p><em> Creepy fucking legilimens</em>, Sirius thought loudly.</p>
<p>De Mort, being the creepy fuck that he was, slipped <em> I’ve been called worse </em> into his mind in response, disregarding Sirius’s occlumency barriers as though they didn’t exist. “So, do you want to do this, or not?”</p>
<p>“What are you going to ask me for if I say yes?” Sirius asked. Because there were <em> reasons </em> he hadn’t just come to Bella, aside from her being a traitorous <em> bitch </em> — she and de Mort were both crazy, evil psychopaths, he wanted as little to do with them as possible, and they were probably going to ask him for some kind of <em> quid pro quo</em>. Which meant avoiding them would be even harder than it already was. Unless de Mort wanted him to stay out of the war, but he wasn't actually sure he could do that, not if Jamie wouldn't sit it out too, and he definitely wouldn't — brave, noble, stupid stubborn bastard.</p>
<p>...Which would rule out running off to be a professional duelist, too. Shite! Oh, well, he'd figure that out later.</p>
<p>De Mort laughed at him, still doing the thing where he just responded to Sirius's thoughts rather than actually wait for him to say shite aloud. <em> Rude</em>. "No, we wouldn't ask you to stay out of our little game. There are few enough players with any talent to speak of on the Old Goat's side as it is. And this is my house, I can't say I really care how rude it might be to legilimise guests who drop in uninvited."</p>
<p>Well...<em>fine</em>. That was kind of a point. He <em> guessed</em>. "What do you want from me, then?"</p>
<p>The snake-faced creep shrugged. “Nothing in particular at the moment. I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to me.”</p>
<p>“I’m <em> not </em> promising you an open-ended favour, de Mort.” He wasn't <em> that </em> desperate. There was still the <em> run off to Aquitania </em>option.</p>
<p>“Fine. I want a copy of your memories pertaining to the soul-magic ritual you boys used to master the animagus transformation.”</p>
<p>“How do you even <em> know </em> about that?”</p>
<p>
  <em> I’m a creepy legilimens, remember? </em>
</p>
<p>“Stop that! And in that case, why don’t you just take them? Since you obviously <em> could</em>.”</p>
<p>“How else should I know what you have to offer that might be of interest to me? And I couldn’t <em> extract </em> them at pensieve-quality levels of detail without you noticing.”</p>
<p>Which wasn’t <em> at all </em> the same as saying that he couldn’t just steal them if he didn’t care about Sirius trying to fight him off while he did it. (De Mort could be surprisingly civil about the <em> weirdest </em> things, Sirius <em> still </em> had no idea how he decided when not to be an arse.) “Fine, then. Done. <em> After </em> the ritual.”</p>
<p>Bella giggled. “I was <em> sure </em> you were going to ask for the memory of the experience,” she murmured to de Mort.</p>
<p>“<em>That </em> I <em> can </em> just steal. I must warn you, Black: Hecate will likely demand some payment herself. It is generally wise to decide ahead of time what you’re willing to offer. How far are you prepared to go for this?”</p>
<p>That...was a good question. He’d kind of assumed they’d use blood alchemy, or some blood alchemy low ritual shite like blood-adopting someone into the House. Probably should’ve guessed de Mort would rather just broker an agreement between Sirius and some god or other. (Though, in that light, that he wouldn’t care so very much about what <em> he </em> was getting out of it did make some sense. Sirius was barely asking more of the snakey bastard than he had of Zee.) </p>
<p>
  <em> I do find it amusing that you linger so on my appearance. Especially given that you came here looking for a way to undergo a much more extreme transformation. </em>
</p>
<p>Yeah, well, turning yourself into a bloody snake-person was fucking weird, okay. If he was being honest, he kind of got the rest of it. Wanting to set the fucking world on fire and playing games torturing and killing people and mixing up pain and sex and <em> power</em>. He <em> hated </em> that he got it, that there was a sick, twisted part of him that knew what it felt like to want to hurt people, hold ultimate power over their lives, ruin them <em> just because he could</em>. But there was, and he did.</p>
<p>The snake thing, though, was fucking <em>weird</em>.</p>
<p>De Mort smirked at him, the expression twisted and <em> wrong </em> on his serpentine features. “You know, I <em> do </em> enjoy that about you Blacks. The way you haven’t the slightest consideration for consequences.”</p>
<p>Bella made a little questioning <em> hmm? </em></p>
<p>“Most people asking a favour of someone would take a certain degree of care to avoid insulting them until they’d gotten what they wanted. But there’s no <em> pretense </em> with you. Or with your dear baby cousin. You’re <em> very </em> similar in some ways, you know.”</p>
<p>She sighed. “I had noticed that, yes. Siri, didn't we discuss the topic of insulting my Lord the last time I saw you?"</p>
<p>If you wanted to call <em> crucio</em>-ing someone <em> a discussion</em>. "I <em> wasn't!</em> The snake thing <em> is </em> weird, that's an objective <em> fact</em>."</p>
<p>Bella gave him a silly little smile. "I think it suits him."</p>
<p>Well, it kind of did. Probably better than the version of the face he'd been born with that he usually wore in public. But then, Sirius was kind of used to being surrounded by strikingly beautiful, dark-minded madmen, so he kind of expected anyone too pretty to be evil too. The snake thing was at least honest advertising, though. Sinister and grotesque, the sort of face you might <em> expect </em> a cold-blooded monster to have.</p>
<p>That his weird snake aesthetic suited him didn’t mean it wasn’t weird, it just meant that de Mort was a weirdo.</p>
<p>A weirdo giving him a very peculiar look. Sirius wasn’t sure if he couldn’t read it because it was between two or more expressions, or because reptiles didn’t normally <em> do </em> facial expressions. Wasn’t really their <em> thing</em>, Sirius didn’t think.</p>
<p>“You <em> do </em> amuse me,” he said, so <em> very </em> condescendingly. “That particular combination of dislike and attraction and consequent self-loathing overwhelming the admittedly reasonable fear that I might one day be the cause of your death so thoroughly that you entirely fail to act on it is just so...endearing.” Sirius could not for the life of him tell if de Mort was being sarcastic. “No, I’m not.”</p>
<p>“Yes, well, it’s difficult to act properly afraid when the future’s just a vague hypothetical,” Bella noted. “So!” She sat up properly, stretching her back and shoulders in a way that <em> had </em> to hurt, pulling at the cuts de Mort had been making when Sirius had arrived. “Are we turning little Siri even more thoroughly into a younger, more self-absorbed and depressed copy of me, or not?”</p>
<p>“Oh, shut up, Bella, just because you’re too obsessed with this snakey weirdo to think about anything else doesn’t mean I’m self-absorbed.”</p>
<p>“No, being sixteen makes you self-absorbed. And you <em> are </em> doing this for Dorea’s little Jamie, are you not? Cissy mentioned you’re completely gone for him. Pretty sure that means you have no room to talk about me being obsessive about anyone or anything, ever, for the rest of your life.”</p>
<p>Sirius had no response to that — except perhaps a small degree of surprise that she didn’t seem to think it was unreasonable to turn himself into a girl for what even Zee had obviously thought was a bad reason. But only a small one. Everyone knew Bella was completely insane herself.</p>
<p>Another unnatural smirk tugged at the non-lips of Lord Snakeface’s mouth. “Just to be clear, Mira was entirely correct. As was your initial doubt. Speaking as an objective observer, I can assure you little Jamie Potter will <em> not </em> understand having deliberately emasculated yourself, much less having done it in the hopes of a positive reaction from him. Personally, I think it’s a lovely gesture, but I think we’ve established that I’m a <em> creepy weirdo</em>, so.”</p>
<p>Sirius scowled at him. “I’m still doing it. I’ll tell him it was a potions accident or something. You’re not going to talk me out of it.” Honestly, he was kind of surprised he was <em> trying</em>.</p>
<p>“Yes, well, certain Aspects tend to get tetchy when I ask them to do things to other people who don’t fully understand the consequences of their decisions. But fine.” He stood, pacing toward a small altar on the other side of the room, lighting the candles arranged upon it with a casual wandless charm, began chanting an invocation in a language close enough to the Greek Sirius had learned that he could <em> kind of </em> make out it was mostly inviting the goddess of Magic (referred to by half a dozen different epithets) to join them and hear Sirius’s plea. Not really complex, as far as rituals went. What <em> was </em> complex was the way he was just pouring magic into the room, building... He would <em> almost </em> have thought it was going to be an illusion, except it didn’t have any particular <em> form</em>, visibly or audibly, just a loose magical construction.</p>
<p>Whatever it was intended to do, it didn’t, Sirius didn’t think, because before he reached the end of the invocation a witch shadow-walked into the room, pouncing onto the bed beside Bellatrix, and he broke off, letting it unravel. “Angelos. I distinctly remember telling you that if you returned to Britain, I would devise a fate worse than death for you.”</p>
<p>The witch, who appeared to be perhaps a year or two older than Sirius but whose magical presence was darker and more powerful even than de Mort’s, surrounding him with suffocating cold, grinned at him. “Yes, and you’re a complete tease — I <em> know </em> you haven’t come up with anything yet. But I’m not here to play with your little pet. Sorry, love.” That was directed toward Bella, who was leaning casually on one hand, watching Angelos with a sort of amused tolerance entirely at odds with de Mort’s annoyance. “I heard you need someone to re-write little Siri’s identity, <em> great </em> idea, by the way, I totally approve.” <em> That </em> was directed at Sirius, and suddenly had him questioning this decision in a way Zee and de Mort pointing out the likelihood of its futility hadn’t. “And since he <em> owes me </em> for breaking our Covenant, I thought I’d offer my services.”</p>
<p>Okay, he hadn’t really expected <em> that</em>. <em>“Who </em> are you, exactly?”</p>
<p>“Tommy! Introduce me!”</p>
<p>De Mort sighed. “Sirius, this is Angelos Melini, erstwhile daughter of the House of Black, your <em> many </em> times great-aunt and Avatar of the Primordial Dark. Angel, I believe you already know Sirius.”</p>
<p>Er. Yes. Yes, she did. If she was an Avatar of the Dark — Its priestess, possessed by It, representing It — then she’d be <em> more </em> than familiar with him, given the breaking of the Covenant she’d just mentioned. He swallowed hard. “My Lady,” he offered, bowing somewhat stiffly.</p>
<p>“Mmm, not <em> yours</em>. <em> You </em> turned away from us. We were <em> very </em> annoyed with you. Though, not so much as we might have been, had the House of Black not grown so <em> very </em> boring these past few decades. So, if you truly desire this metamorphosis, we shall grant it to you.”</p>
<p>“...What’s the catch? What do you— You don’t want me to dedicate myself to the Dark again, do you?” Because that wasn’t going to happen any more than him offering an open-ended favour to de Mort.</p>
<p>She smiled sweetly at him, stood to come <em> far </em> too close to him, her fingers walking up his arm, her magic creeping down his spine. Much as he <em> wanted </em> to retreat, just take a step back, away from her, he couldn’t seem to make his body obey him. “No. Much as we did enjoy watching you struggle to fight your natural inclination toward our side of magic, the dissonance in your soul is <em> hardly </em> resolved by so publicly rejecting us. You can’t change who you <em> are</em>, darling. In your heart of hearts there will always be some part of you that knows you belong to us, burning away at you. Well, until you give up this ridiculous flirtation with morality. But either way, we win — you entertain us, or you serve us.”</p>
<p>“So... So, what do you want, then?” he asked, overcome by a sense of deja vu. Hadn’t he <em> just </em> had this conversation?</p>
<p>A small, cold, death-pale hand rose to cup his cheek, eyes sparkling with mirth. “We want your pain. We want you to <em> suffer </em> for us. Make no mistake, love, it <em> hurts </em> to rewrite your fundamental identity. All the more so when it’s done <em> for </em> you, and quickly. And it will be all the worse for it being <em> our </em> power at work, dark magic suffusing every cell in your body, so soon after rejecting us. And you <em> will </em> feel every moment of it. There will be no sweet release of unconsciousness this time, and no turning back once it’s begun.”</p>
<p>That— That should <em> probably </em> be more intimidating than it was. The very idea— It would be like the Cruciatus, he knew. But it couldn’t hurt more than the pain of loving Jamie and his cruel rejection, a dagger driven through Sirius’s heart. It couldn’t hurt more than the helplessness of not knowing what to do, how to make it <em> stop</em>. And if it did, well...<em>good</em>. It... He <em> didn’t want to think anymore </em> or <em> feel </em> anymore or <em> be </em> anymore. He <em> couldn’t live like this</em>. And he <em> deserved </em> it, whatever pain and suffering she might subject him to, turning the fulfillment of his sudden, desperate need into punishment for the blow he’d struck against the Family. He glared his most <em> defiant </em> glare at her. “Do it, then.”</p>
<p>Before the words were entirely out of his mouth, his world dissolved into pain the likes of which he’d only felt once before, when his father had cursed him, nearly killed him, and Bella had called on the Dark, on the power racing through him even now, to save his life. <em> This time</em>, she’d said, he realised, teetering on the brink of insensibility. No escaping into unconsciousness <em> this time</em>. He– he should have realised, should have noticed— He’d been wrong, so very<em>, very </em> wrong, he didn’t want this, he <em> didn’t</em>, not if <em> this </em> was the price, but— </p>
<p>But it was too late. </p>
<p>There was no turning back, now. Every moment, every second he thought it could not <em> possibly </em> grow worse, stronger, it did — every nerve not only on fire as with the Cruciatus, but dissolving, <em> melting</em>, as though the frigid magic running through his veins held the heat of the very sun, or every flame and drop of acid in every one of the nine hells. His world narrowed until thought was impossible, until there was nothing <em> but </em> pain, almost <em> transcendent, </em> his consciousness focused down to a single point, everything he <em> was </em> reduced to an eternal instant of <em> unmaking</em>.</p>
<p>He hadn’t noticed it starting to wane until it changed, intensifying (<em>somehow </em> ) yet again, a new note of <em> corruption</em>, of creating something <em> impossible</em>, <em> unnatural</em>, something that <em> shouldn’t be</em>, caught between one state and another, bringing out the sharpness of the destruction of what he used to be, and then, with a sort of <em> snapping </em> feeling, forcing him into a new shape, a new <em> self</em>.</p>
<p>A self which he slowly became aware of, lying on a thin carpet on Bella’s bedroom floor, acutely aware of the hard stone beneath it, or perhaps slowly coalescing there, torn apart and reassembled in ways that felt <em> wrong</em>, heart racing, gasping for air, his chest and abdomen aching as though Cissy had disemboweled him again, every inch of skin tingling, <em> itching</em>, so weak and exhausted from the ordeal he <em> barely </em> managed to roll onto his side to sick up, vomit joining the puddle of...some kind of slime he was lying in — a byproduct, presumably, of the transformation. </p>
<p>“Ew,” Angelos said, vanishing the mess and kneeling to hover over him, dark hair falling around her face like a curtain, eyes wide in an expression of delight, almost ecstasy. “That was even better than I thought it would be. Just—” She cut herself off with a delighted sigh, stretched out on the rug beside him, her nose inches from his own. There were freckles on it, he noticed — one of those distracted, completely irrelevant things he noticed when he was too tired to focus on anything actually <em> important</em>. “Just <em> perfect</em>. You’re forgiven,” she informed him. </p>
<p>Her.</p>
<p>She informed <em> her</em>, because Sirius was, he realised, fingers fluttering over his own — <em> her </em> own — body, a girl, now. A very naked girl. Where the fuck had his — <em> her </em> — clothes gone? Not that it mattered, really, he was just <em> cold. </em> She. <em> She </em> was cold. And she hurt in ways that were only too familiar — just weeks ago, when she’d broken the Covenant, her magic had felt like this, like there was some corruption burning away at her very <em> soul</em>.</p>
<p>She pulled at the magic around herself, just letting it flow through her, wash it away. Ease the lingering pain. Not enough that she felt able to sit up, but enough to relax a little, tension bleeding out of her with the lingering dark magic.</p>
<p>“Asteria,” Bella said, apparently out of nowhere, Sirius hadn’t heard her and de Mort talking, at least. “Bellatrix Asteria.”</p>
<p>“Wh-what?” she asked, stuttering slightly as she was taken aback not only by the weakness of her voice, but its pitch, noticeably higher than it had been, sounded odd. As it should, she was sure, given her transformation, but somehow she hadn’t expected it.</p>
<p>“Well, you need a name,” she explained, coming to kneel on Sirius’s other side, de Mort following her.</p>
<p>“I...what?” Sirius said, completely unable to process...anything, really, at the moment. Her head was <em> pounding</em>, and she was—</p>
<p>“Yes, I know, you’re cold,” de Mort said, sounding terribly exasperated. “That does tend to happen lying naked on the floor. Come on, everyone up,” he ordered them, levitating Sirius onto Bella’s bed. He cast a warming charm on her too, which was...nice. Weirdly nice, but nice. “I don’t know <em> why </em> you think I’m such a terrible person,” he complained, which was just...completely ridiculous. Dirty lie. Murderous psychopath starting a fucking war, killing and torturing people for fun...</p>
<p>“Yes, Aster. Terra?”</p>
<p>“Aster,” Bella said firmly. </p>
<p>“Yes, Aster. I have been known to kill and torture people for fun, but <em> you’ve </em> been known to participate in human sacrifice, so it would be incredibly hypocritical of you to hold that one thing up as an example of my entire character.”</p>
<p>That... She was pretty sure that didn’t make sense, though she couldn’t quite think <em> why</em>. Like, all the words were words she knew, but she couldn’t focus on them, and even if she could she suspected that logic was lacking something, somewhere. “Why’re... Who— Am I Aster?”</p>
<p>“Yes. You’re Bellatrix Asteria.”</p>
<p>“Oh... Okay.” It was okay. She didn’t hate it, Aster. She wouldn’t have picked <em>Bellatrix</em>, but it wasn’t as though she had to use it. Dorea never did.</p>
<p>Dorea...</p>
<p>Dorea was going to be so angry with her, running away so she didn’t have to talk to the mind healer, she realised — another one of those completely irrelevant thoughts.</p>
<p>“Just go to sleep,” de Mort advised her, a hint of compulsion behind the suggestion. Enough to notice, she would’ve maybe tried to resist it just on principle if it didn’t sound like such a good idea, if she wasn’t <em> so </em> tired. The last thing she was aware of — <em> very </em> distantly — was her awareness of the aching pains throughout her body receding, a final foreign thought slipping in along with whatever he was doing so it didn’t hurt too much to sleep — <em> You did well, star-child. </em></p>
<p>Bella’s bed was surprisingly <em> soft</em>...</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. There is no escape.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So, as it transpires, turning oneself into a girl in a desperate bid to escape one's problems does not actually solve any of one's problems. In fact, it tends to create more of them. Mostly logistical.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Sirius woke up, he couldn’t remember, for a moment, where he was, or how he had gotten there. An unfamiliar bed with...</p><p>It came back to him (<em>her</em>) then, deciding in the midst of a dark, <em>dark </em>night, a moment of self-destructive weakness and self-loathing, that the thing to do, the obvious solution to all of his (<em>her</em>) problems, or at least a desperate escape route into a different life, was to turn himself into a girl. Which he — <em>she </em>— had proceeded to do, waking Zee in the middle of the night, walking in on Bella and de Mort, and the ever-loving Dark Itself transforming him, rewriting <em>her</em>, and then pain, overwhelming, <em>impossible </em>pain, and after...</p><p>After was kind of fuzzy, pain fading slowly enough she hadn’t gotten the brilliant moment of elation that followed being released from the Cruciatus, and also slowly enough that between that and her exhaustion she hadn’t really been able to focus... Honestly, it had kind of felt like being drunk. (<em>Really</em> drunk.) She knew they’d been talking, at least a little, but... </p><p>Had Bella named her <em>Asteria</em>? Not the <em>worst </em>name, she guessed. Though exactly why Bella should get to name her, Sirius wasn’t really sure. He — <em>she </em>— was still kind of angry at her for that Cruciatus last Yule. Though...that was starting to seem a bit <em>silly</em>, now. Bella clearly wasn’t harbouring any sort of grudge for her insults or for opposing her entire political agenda, and if she managed not to think about the raids and the killings and the whole bloody war, it was hard not to fall back into thinking of her as Sirius’s favourite cousin, the witch who’d looked out for him all his life. </p><p>It didn’t hurt that she and de Mort apparently <em>wanted </em>Sirius — Asteria, whatever — to fight on Dumbledore’s side of the war — how weird was <em>that?</em> Though that was hardly the most surprising thing de Mort had said and/or thought at her over the course of the night. She was <em>almost positive </em>he’d said something like, <em>you did good, kid</em>, as she was falling asleep, which was... She had <em>never</em> heard him say something <em>nice </em>and not sarcastic to <em>anyone</em>, let alone something...<em>supportive</em>.</p><p>She didn’t exactly <em>trust </em>it, he was almost definitely trying to manipulate her for some reason, but still. It made it easier not to freak out when she realised she’d woken up in Bella’s bed, tangled up in a pile of limbs and sheets with both of them. </p><p>Well, de Mort was mostly curled up into a vaguely snakeish ball by himself, she guessed, craning her head to see over Bella’s shoulder. Reminded her of a real snake coiled up under a heat lamp. She wondered if he was going to use the ritual Jamie had found in his father’s library to turn himself into a snake for real. She couldn’t think why <em>else </em>he would want her memories of that particular ritual. Yes, it was soul magic which was inherently open to sketchy modifications, but it was intended to integrate an animal’s instincts into a human soul, made it about a thousand times easier to get used to an animagus form, not exactly useful for a lot of other purposes — or at least, she didn’t <em>think </em>it was?</p><p>Whatever, it didn’t matter. She’d promised she’d give them to him. It was possible he’d made copies of them already, while she was passed out, but...</p><p>She began extricating herself from Bella, stumbling out of the bed — something about her centre of balance was off. She needed to use the loo and find a bottle or something for those memories, and maybe take a shower — her skin felt <em>weird </em>and her head was all <em>heavy </em>. Everything seemed <em>much </em>clearer than it had last night — she <em>hoped </em>it was only last night, that she hadn’t been passed out for <em>days. </em>(Where the fuck was her— Oh, there, sitting on Bella’s bedside table beside hers, like it belonged there.) She gave her wand a quick flick, checking the date and time. Yeah, okay, last night, it was still Saturday...though, she was sure someone had noticed her missing by now, because it was also after two in the afternoon.</p><p>Clearer than things had seemed in <em>weeks</em>, really.</p><p>She padded naked through the darkened bedroom — windows hidden behind heavy curtains, and probably charmed dark too, because there wasn’t even a painfully bright outline around them — poking her head into what was probably a private library or salon or something and an equally dark corridor before locating the loo. She should probably find clothes at some point, too, and <em>food</em>, gods and Powers, she was fucking <em>starving </em>— when was the last time she’d eaten? Thursday? It might’ve been Thursday. She hadn’t really been making a point of regular meals for a while, now (<em>oops</em>) — which was really fucking obvious, she realised, casting a couple of light globes toward the ceiling of the bathroom.</p><p>It had been a while since she’d looked in a mirror — <em>really </em>looked, actually paying attention to her appearance — and there was a massive one on the back wall of the room, floor to ceiling. (Also, there was a shower stall <em>and </em>a proper tub — <em>fuck </em>yes!) Made it kind of impossible not to see how skinny she’d gotten since she’d gone back to school — ribs visible, hip and collar bones and all the odd knobbly bits of practically <em>all </em>of her joints sticking out, her face gaunt and sharp, eyes and cheeks deeply hollowed. The effect was shocking enough it took her several seconds to notice that all of the scars she’d managed to pick up over the first sixteen years of her life had vanished, even the ones that had transferred over from Padfoot playing with Moony on the full moon. She assumed she’d looked just as starved before the ritual. Maybe more so, since she was a couple inches shorter now. (Not a <em>lot</em>, just enough to notice when she’d reached for the door handle, her arm ended up at a different angle than she’d expected.) Seriously, how was <em>Pete </em>the only one who’d noticed she <em>really </em>wasn’t well? She needed better mates...</p><p>Aside from that, she looked pretty much like she’d expected — almost as flat-chested as she had been as a boy (nipples more prominent), hips a little wider (compared to her waist, at least). She was pretty sure her hair hadn’t changed at all, still looked fabulous (or would, once it was clean). Her eyes were the same too, silvery-grey, framed by heavy lashes Jamie and Pete had always said looked girly anyway. Looking closer, the bone structure of her face had changed a bit, too — some of the sharpness was that her jawline was less square, now, more heart-shaped overall. </p><p>Basically, she looked like Bella. Her face was a little more round, her eyes still much lighter, and Bella was much more fit, but aside from that... It was kind of uncanny, really. There had been a distinct resemblance between them before, too, but not this much — Bella’s mother was a Rosier. Really, by all rights, she thought they ought to look a <em>little </em>more different, even if they <em>were </em>the same sex now. Maybe the Dark had done it on purpose? She couldn’t imagine <em>why</em>. Maybe some ineffable, godly reason, or maybe just because it amused It. Not that it really mattered...aside from the fact that she could probably steal something of Bella’s to wear once she was clean, since the clothes she’d shown up in had mysteriously vanished at some point last night. (Shame — the jeans probably wouldn’t have fit anymore, but she’d liked that tee-shirt.)</p><p>She hadn’t really had any expectations as far as the mechanics of using the loo went — it was all pretty self-explanatory, she thought? Though she might have to ask Dorea about, erm...monthlies, and stuff... <em>That </em>she definitely hadn’t considered at <em>all</em>. </p><p>Just out of curiosity, she shifted to Padfoot’s form for a minute. Somehow he was <em>also </em>female, now. Struck her as odd, maybe because the dog she’d sacrificed in that soul-integration ritual had been male. Though, he hadn’t looked like Padfoot, so maybe it never had made much difference on the form she took. Maybe because she’d thought your animal didn’t change after you’d found it, and she kind of thought this counted as <em>changing</em>? Eh, she’d ask Remy about it, give him an excuse to go on one of those book hunts he liked so much.</p><p>She took a quick shower — scrubbing the feeling of foreign <em>weirdness </em>from her skin probably harder than necessary and washing her hair properly — while she waited for her bath to run. Just floating in the warm water for a while, trying to relax the lingering ache out of every muscle and bone in her body (like she’d flooded the lingering taint of dark magic from her soul with warm, light power), sounded like an <em>excellent </em>idea. She knew she probably felt much better than she reasonably <em>should </em>at the moment — this kind of all-encompassing physical change took <em>weeks </em>to accomplish with blood alchemy, and she was pretty sure the Dark had made it hurt worse just to punish her — but she still kind of felt like every cell in her body had been torn apart and put back together overnight, and they weren’t really accustomed to their new reality, yet.</p><p>Plus, there was one other thing she wanted to check out before she had to face the world looking for food and clothes (<em>probably </em>not in that order) and make copies of memories... Before she had to go back to the Potters’ and apologise to Dorea for blowing off the emergency appointment she’d made with her mind-healer friend and try to explain why it had seemed like a good idea to turn herself into a girl <em>without </em>admitting that it was <em>mostly </em>because the wizard she loved wouldn’t give her a second look as a boy, because Dorea was distinctly more sane than most of the Blacks, probably wouldn’t think that was as reasonable as Bella had. Charlus <em>definitely </em>wouldn’t. And...Asteria (kind of weird, still, thinking of herself by another name, but it was starting to grow on her)...did at least <em>try </em>not to say things that sounded entirely insane aloud. </p><p>She didn’t even want to <em>think </em>about what Arcturus would have to say about this (she had a sneaking suspicion even most of the Family would consider this impulsive and excessive)...or Reggie...or <em>Narcissa</em>, fuck, <em>she </em>was going to be positively <em>insufferable</em>...and James, the Marauders, they wouldn’t get it any more than Charlus. <em>And </em>she was going to have to think of some way to explain this without admitting she’d asked Bella and de Mort for help, because she <em>hated </em>de Mort and his war and everything he stood for, if she’d been in her right mind she <em>definitely </em>would’ve told him to go fuck himself and run off to Aquitania to get it done instead. </p><p><em>Ugh</em>, she didn’t want to think about it.</p><p>Instead, she focused on the feel of her fingers skimming over her own thighs under the water, exploring the biggest difference between her old body and her new one more <em>thoroughly</em>. <em>Much </em>more thoroughly. She was, of course, fairly familiar with how girls worked, from an <em>outside </em>perspective, but playing with herself was obviously more...<em>engaging</em>. Yes, that was a good word. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been wondering what it felt like to come as a girl since she’d woken up with the sheet wrapped around between her legs, trapped so that any movement at all sort of <em>rubbed</em>...</p><p>She was <em>just </em>starting to really get into it when her cousin wandered obliviously into the bathroom, started the shower from the doorway with a flick of her wand.</p><p>“Bella! I was in the <em>middle </em>of something!”</p><p>Bella looked over, apparently surprised to see Asteria glaring at her from the tub. Had she not noticed that <em>someone </em>had cast light globes in here?! She smirked. “Carry on, I don’t mind.”</p><p>“...I lost my train of thought,” she admitted, sounding somewhat sulky even to herself. Even if she <em>was </em>able to ignore Bella’s <em>very distracting </em>presence, the moment — and her momentum — was gone. Served her right for not locking the door, maybe, but <em>come on</em>!</p><p>“Poor baby. Don’t you have your own bath to masturbate in? Though, that reminds me—” She flicked a spell at Asteria — which Asteria, still sitting in the bath, was entirely unable to dodge. </p><p>The curse settled like a cold stone in her lower abdomen, her awareness of it fading without any apparent effect even as she asked, “What the fuck was that?”</p><p>“False Hope Curse. Prevents pregnancy by stopping the whole process, including menstruation, hence the name. I assume you weren’t planning on having children in the next three years?”</p><p>Oh. “No. Definitely not.” She wasn’t <em>planning </em>on having children, <em>ever</em>, among other reasons because she was sure she’d be a <em>shite </em>parent. Also, that meant no monthlies, right? Yeah, she was <em>totally </em>fine with that.</p><p>“Good. Especially since I also assume becoming biologically female hasn’t improved your taste in lovers in any appreciable way.”</p><p>Right. She’d kind of forgotten that Bella had cursed Sirius so he wouldn’t be able to accidentally knock up a mudblood — or <em>worse</em>, an <em>actual muggle!</em> (Though she <em>and </em>Arcturus would have been <em>delighted</em>, Asteria was sure, if he had knocked up some poor pureblood girl so they could be forced into a proper marriage.) He’d been <em>far </em>more interested in the rest of that conversation, wherein he’d tried to change the subject away from his own sex life by making some very unsubtle remarks about Bella and de Mort, and ended up learning shite he’d never imagined about mixing sex and pain — most notably that he wasn’t nearly as much of a freak as he’d thought for thinking that kind of thing was fucking hot. Supposedly there were even people they <em>weren’t </em>related to who were into that sort of thing. </p><p><em>Supposedly</em>. Sirius had never met one (other than de Mort), or at least not one who’d taken any of his hints that he’d be open to rougher play when they were fooling around, and he’d fucked...kind of a lot of people.</p><p>Aaand now she was getting distracted thinking about Bella and de Mort and knives, because Bella had turned around, her back still covered in fresh wounds — a symmetrical, geometric design, lots of arcs and triangle-ish shapes, some of them cut <em>out</em>, the flayed spots and red lines stark against her skin, brighter than her tattoos and the faded silvery runes carved all over her (made her think of the Dark Princess of the Fae Court of the Moon, for some reason) — and while that <em>did </em>kind of fix the issue of having lost her earlier train of thought, even she kind of thought it was weird to masturbate thinking about your sick, evil cousin and her sick, evil lover doing twisted shite like that (or even better, your sick, evil cousin and <em>yourself</em>— <em>no, Asteria, bad thoughts!)</em>, especially when the cousin in question was in the shower about three metres away. Even if Bella wouldn’t have minded (and Asteria was pretty sure she wouldn’t), it still seemed like the sort of thing Jamie would think was weird, which was kind of the litmus test.</p><p>“I’m going to find something to eat,” she announced abruptly, floundering out of the tub and summoning a towel.</p><p>Bella ignored her distracted clumsiness, raising her hands to lather her hair. Asteria caught a glimpse of the Dark Mark on her forearm, which instantly made her about ten times less attractive. <em>Right, yes, good, no sexy thoughts about evil cousins, no matter how distractingly twisted they might be. </em> </p><p>“Can you actually cook? We don’t have an elf here.” </p><p>Could <em>Bella </em>actually cook? She meant, she’d forgotten that Bella disliked having elves around, she presumably had to feed herself <em>somehow</em>, and Asteria couldn’t imagine <em>de Mort </em>cooking...but she couldn’t really imagine Bella cooking either, so... “I’ll figure it out. How hard can it be?”</p><p>“If you want to wait maybe fifteen minutes we can go out for lunch.”</p><p>Asteria hesitated. On the one hand, she’d generally say <em>no</em> — she didn’t want to be seen in public (or anywhere else) with Bella — but on the other, no one was likely to recognise her at the moment, and that <em>did </em>sound better than trying to actually <em>make food</em>. “Sure?”</p><p>“Hmm, ‘kay. Feel free to raid my closet, but <em>don’t </em>transfigure my clothes.” No fucking shite, most of Bella’s clothes had at <em>least </em>one enchantment worked into them, and transfiguring enchanted items was <em>always </em>unpredictable (and usually wrecked them). “I’m sure you’ll find <em>something </em>that will fit. And try not to wake Thom, we didn’t go to sleep until nine.”</p><p>“...Sorry, if I woke you.” She tended to accidentally wake people up kind of a lot (when she <em>wasn’t </em>in the middle of a stay-in-bed-all-day funk), and they tended to be kind of annoyed about it. Even if it <em>was </em>well after noon.</p><p>Bella shrugged. “You did, but it’s fine.” She gave Asteria a crooked grin. “Haven’t you noticed? One of the best things about being a little mad is not needing to sleep much.”</p><p>...How had she not realised that? Gods and Powers, she could be a bloody idiot sometimes. Not that she <em>liked </em>being reminded that she was unnervingly similar to her insane older cousin in a number of disturbing ways, including having gotten the Black Madness worse than anyone else in their generation, but it did kind of explain a lot. (Including, now that she was thinking clearly again, pretty much all of the last month. <em>Ergh</em>...)</p><p>Something of her thoughts must have shown in her expression, because Bella laughed at her. </p><p>“So...that’s normal, then? Not sleeping?”</p><p>“For me? Yes. For you? Probably. During the <em>ups</em>, at least. I wouldn’t advise you deliberately <em>try </em>to stay up for days on end, but if you’re not tired, why sleep?”</p><p>See, this was why it was hard to remember she hated Bella now — she was so often the only person around who made any bloody sense! Sirius had given Remus that <em>exact </em>argument when he’d been nagging Sirius about needing to keep a regular sleep schedule during their OWLs...</p><p>"You definitely should try to remember to eat though, even when you're not hungry." She gave Asteria a very pointed if not terribly <em>concerned </em>look before returning to scrubbing her arms. "At least make a habit of taking a nutrient potion every day or something, harder to forget that than it is thinking <em>oh, I’m not </em>that <em>hungry, I'll eat later </em>until you actually pass out."</p><p>She glared at the older witch, resisting the urge to pull the towel up over her bony shoulders. "Did I ask you?"</p><p>Bella just shrugged. "Do you think I care? You're still my baby cousin, and there's apparently no one else in your life who thinks it's worth mentioning, so."</p><p>"Yes there is!"</p><p>"Oh, then you just don't trust them enough to take them seriously?" It was kind of infuriating, Bella being all...all <em>nonchalant </em>about her <em>very </em>irritating observations, apparently more focused on washing herself than their conversation. (Asteria didn’t really care that she <em>had </em>come in here to take a shower, obviously.)</p><p>"What makes you think I trust <em>you</em>? <em>Especially </em>after Yule."</p><p>"Aster. Duckie. There's trust, and then there's <em>trust</em>. I've never lied to you, and I've always warned you when there would be adverse consequences for your actions. If you didn’t trust me, you wouldn’t be here. And unlike...practically everyone, I know what I'm talking about when it comes to dealing with the Madness."</p><p>Fine, then, they could have it out right here. "You used the Cruciatus on me! And it <em>hurt!"</em></p><p>"Well that <em>is </em>what it's meant to do..." Bella sounded genuinely confused about why that should matter. </p><p>"You have to <em>mean </em>your Unforgivables!” she snapped. <em>“You </em>were the one who taught me that!"</p><p>Bella fucking laughed, because of course she did, but actually stopped to look at Asteria. "So? That doesn’t mean I <em>hate </em>you, or whatever you’re thinking. Just that I wanted to hurt you — and honestly, that’s nothing <em>personal</em>, I kind of want to hurt everyone all the time.” Asteria had no words to explain how <em>very </em>fucked up that was. Didn’t matter, she probably already knew, and didn’t care any more than she cared about the hot water beating at her back. (Which made <em>Asteria </em>wince, because <em>how could that not hurt?)</em> “Most of the time I <em>don’t</em>, because I do have <em>some </em>self-control. It’s just a bit more difficult to maintain when I’ve recently been directly in contact with the Dark Itself — conducting the Yule ritual, for example. You were being a brat and trying to get a rise out of me, probably for the same reason, so I really don’t think you have any room to complain that you got one.” She shrugged. “It would’ve hurt a <em>lot </em>more if I didn’t actually like you. You’re still my most entertaining baby cousin, after all.” No fucking shite, Regulus was boring as hell. “I’m not going to stop giving you advice just because you’re an impulsive little shite with no sense of self-preservation to speak of.”</p><p>Asteria had no idea what to say to that — mostly because it <em>was </em>true that Sirius had been trying to get a rise out of Bella, but he <em>really </em>hadn’t thought she’d actually curse him. Not for <em>real</em>. "But, I— You'd never really hurt me before. I thought— Dorea said if you cursed me, you thought I was an adult, now."</p><p>"No, I think you’re a reasonably intelligent, <em>very </em>well-educated young witch, with a solid grasp of how magic can be used against you both overtly and covertly, and the skills to defend yourself from anyone who <em>isn’t </em>trained to Hit Wizard standards, <em>and </em>you’ve come into your power now. All of which means you don’t need me to protect you anymore. There's a difference between that and you being able to take care of yourself."</p><p>If that hadn't sounded so patronising, it might almost have been nice to hear. Well, the first part <em>was </em>just flat nice to hear. Bella was about as likely to say anything supportive just for the sake of it as de Mort. She was just stating the facts, and the facts were Asteria didn’t need her protection. That last part, though... </p><p>If anyone had asked Sirius before Yule, he'd probably have said that of course he wanted to be treated as an adult, but just being thrown out of the nest like he'd kind of thought he had been had made it <em>very clear </em>he <em>wasn't </em>ready to be on his own. Case in point, he'd run to Dorea after that Yule (<em>and </em>after he'd broken the Family Magic at Lammas) because he hadn’t known what else to do. So, on the one hand, it was kind of a relief, knowing that Bella would still look out for her, but on the other, she didn’t <em>want </em>Bella’s help or advice — she didn’t want to need it, and she didn’t want it from Bella, who was still a crazy, evil bitch who killed people for fun. </p><p>Again, something must have shown on her face, because Bella added, “If it’s any consolation, I wasn’t really ready for independence either, when I was your age. Just kind of seemed like I was an adult because you were so young.” Asteria didn’t know about <em>that</em>. It might’ve <em>helped,</em> but when Bella had been sixteen she’d stood up to Sirius’s father and Arcturus for him, made Arcturus, <em>the actual Head of their House</em>, treat her like an <em>equal</em>, which to seven-year-old Sirius was completely unthinkable. She’d already been a Death Eater, too — she’d had the Dark Mark as long as Asteria could remember — and de Mort wasn’t exactly the type to promote people just because they were sucking his dick. If she’d gotten kicked out of the Family for something, Asteria was pretty sure she would’ve been just fine on her own. Bella made a face at her, killing the water. “If you ask Thom, I’m <em>still </em>not really an adult. <em>Adults </em>make <em>responsible </em>choices, and don’t spend <em>months </em>engineering goblin rebellions when there are <em>dozens </em>of simpler ways to make a distraction.”</p><p>“You did <em>what</em>, now?!” She wasn’t talking about the Three Days’ Rebellion last spring, was she?</p><p>She didn’t answer really, just shrugged, heading for the door. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. Hush.”</p><p>It didn’t take long for Bella to get dressed and find something for Asteria to wear too. She <em>had </em>had to teach her the charm to lace and tie a corset without breaking her bloody ribs and a few more feminine hair-styling charms — Asteria also really hadn’t considered that if she were a girl she’d have to dress like a girl — which had taken a little longer, and then Asteria had gotten distracted poking around what she finally realised was <em>de Mort’s </em>house. (She hadn’t been <em>snooping</em>, just looking for a spare potion vial or something to store those memories in...and coincidentally having a look at nearly every room in what was really little more than a cottage.)</p><p>In her defence, what she’d seen before heading to the Floo annex could easily have been a suite in any number of Black properties. She’d kind of assumed they were somewhere in Ancient House. But there were absolutely <em>no </em>Black properties so sparsely decorated, and the Blacks tended to corral their books into actual libraries instead of having a shelf or two in every room. She’d never really considered where the creepy, snakey bastard might actually <em>live </em>before. She guessed it made sense he <em>had </em>a house, he couldn’t just sleep in one of Bella’s or the Malfoys’ guest rooms all the time, it was just weird thinking of the snake-faced would-be Dark Lord eating breakfast in a charming little blue and white kitchenette with a view of the Irish countryside. When she’d mentioned this, Bella had asked (sarcastically) if she had expected him to live in a cave or something, and Asteria had had to admit that, yeah, actually, that seemed more his speed.</p><p>Still, it probably was less than an hour from the time Bella had offered to take her to lunch and their arrival at a little Greek restaurant Asteria had never noticed before, tucked away in a side-alley in Charing.</p><p>By <em>little</em>, she meant there were only half a dozen tables — they were the only customers — and three people working there. Bella apparently went there rather often, because all three of them knew her by name, and she didn’t actually <em>order </em>anything, just chatted with the hostess, a witch a couple of years older than Bella, in slangy, rapid-fire Greek Asteria <em>mostly </em>understood while the two men in the kitchen came up with something for them to eat.</p><p>It helped, trying to follow the conversation, that Lydia was very curious about Asteria. Bella had introduced her as a cousin, which Asteria thought should have been more than enough information — the Blacks were related to <em>everyone</em>, it was much simpler to just call everyone <em>cousin </em>than try to define the exact degree of their relationship — but apparently not. See, they looked too much alike to just be distantly related cousins of some degree or other. In fact, Asteria was pretty sure Lydia was suggesting that Bella was really five or ten years older than she looked, and Asteria’s mother, which Bella of course denied. (Not that Bella <em>hadn’t </em>had nearly as much of a hand in raising her, Narcissa, and Reggie as Walburga, but not the point.) After listening to Bella try to convince the teasing witch that no, she really didn’t have any children for about five minutes, Asteria offered, “<em>No, she really is my cousin</em>.” </p><p>Or at least, she <em>thought </em>she had. Maybe not, because Lydia switched to English immediately. “Oh, how rude of me! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise— With your name, and Bella speaks Greek so fluently — I thought you were just shy!”</p><p>Asteria shrugged. “It’s okay, I did understand most of it, I just don’t really have much reason to speak anything other than English most of the time.” It really was <em>very </em>silly, making them all learn four or five languages when they were kids and then only ever using English (or French, at home, but even that they didn’t use very often). </p><p>“Mmm, yeah, that’s why I started coming here. Why learn a language if you’re never going to speak it?”</p><p>Lydia nodded solemnly. “Yes, she only likes us for my chatter.”</p><p>“The food’s pretty good, too,” Bella pointed out, as one of the cooks brought out a plate of dolmades as an appetizer.</p><p>The hostess laughed, withdrawing toward the kitchen. “Yes, yes, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy.”</p><p>“So,” Bella said, as soon as she was gone. “Have you decided what you’re going to tell people, yet?”</p><p>Asteria almost choked on her grape leaf (she wasn’t sure what they had been stuffed with, but it was <em>very </em>good...and probably not just because she was starving). “<em>What?</em> What am I going to tell people about what? And why are we speaking Welsh?”</p><p>“Because you could use the practice, and the Kostas speak French. You may have noticed, but people don’t tend to spontaneously change sex over night. Generally speaking, not the sort of thing one discusses openly in public.”</p><p>...Right. “I...hadn’t thought that far ahead, really,” she admitted, more interested in the food than thinking about it at the moment too.</p><p>“In which case, I assume you also haven’t considered that you no longer own any suitable clothing—” No, of course she hadn’t. “—and are <em>definitely </em>still going to have to talk to Dorea’s mind-healer friend, because deciding to permanently change your sex on a whim is right up there with jumping off a balcony because you’re convinced you can fly on a scale of behaviours which normal people find disturbing.”</p><p>“I never— Did <em>you </em>jump off a balcony?” Asteria asked, giggling slightly.</p><p>“Yes, when I was seven — don’t change the subject.”</p><p>“You brought it up! Wait, does that mean someone actually made <em>you </em>talk to a mind-healer when you were a kid?” And she’d <em>still </em>ended up this fucked up?</p><p>“No, Thom healed my broken arm and told me to jump off a bench instead of a balcony next time. But Dorea is considerably more mumsy and less practical than he is. And I can pretty much guarantee that <em>she </em>won’t think becoming a girl in an effort to get her son’s attention is an endearing romantic gesture, so, point stands.”</p><p>Asteria was torn between amusement at the idea of <em>mumsy de Mort</em>, and finding it a bit creepy to be reminded he’d been Bella’s tutor when she was a small child. And also vaguely resentful of Bella forcing <em>her </em>to be all practical and face the fact that, as much as becoming a girl had sounded like a good way to escape her life, it didn’t actually mean <em>escaping her life</em>. She <em>did </em>have to go back, and probably sooner rather than later. Dorea was probably already worried about her, given that she <em>had </em>just run off in the middle of the night, in a dangerously impulsive state of mind. “...I should probably have Floo-called her, or left a note or something.”</p><p>“Yes, you should have. I sent her an owl this morning so she wouldn’t call the Aurors out looking for you.”</p><p>Oh. Right. She hadn’t even considered that Dorea would probably overreact badly enough to get other people involved. Walburga <em>never </em>called the Aurors to track her down when she ran off, even when she ended up staying out all night in muggle London. She’d mostly just been expecting to go back to a lot of lecturing and guilt-tripping, and freaking out because...girl. “Did you tell her I’m a girl, now?” Because that would be kind of convenient...</p><p>“Of course not, why would I?” She gave Asteria an evil grin, one which said she knew <em>exactly </em>why she might’ve, but hadn’t because she was a cruel bitch and wanted to make Asteria deal with the consequences of her actions herself. “I would recommend not lying to her about how your transformation came about — she’s not stupid, she’ll put together what must have happened the moment she realises what you’ve done and that you were with <em>me</em>. You <em>will</em>, however, have to come up with something to tell everyone else that doesn’t implicate us or you in illegal blood-magic rituals.”</p><p>“I don’t suppose I could just...plead ignorance. Like, <em>no, I have no idea what happened, I just woke up like this</em>?”</p><p>“Well, that might be easiest, but no one would believe it.”</p><p>“...Potions accident?”</p><p>“Uh <em>huh</em>. And what were you brewing?”</p><p>“Something to turn me into a girl, obviously.” Most potions to do something like that were restricted to some degree or other, but not so much that she’d be in actual trouble for using one on herself.</p><p>“Because...?”</p><p>“Because I was curious? It seemed like a good idea at the time? This year may be my last chance to get with Cassie Lovegood, and girls are more her type?” Really, there were loads of reasons Sirius might’ve decided that <em>temporarily </em>becoming a girl was a good idea.</p><p>Bella shrugged. “Good enough. Pater may actually buy that you thought it seemed like a good idea just because you were mad.”</p><p>Asteria groaned. “Do I have to tell him?” It wasn’t as though she tended to see him very often. She didn’t look <em>that </em>different. It seemed plausible he might not even notice that she’d become a girl at all.</p><p>Bella, though, just gave her an <em>are you fucking with me </em>look.</p><p>“Ugh, fine... Will you come with me?” she asked, giving her cousin her best puppy-dog eyes.</p><p>She smirked. “Did you really think I wouldn’t? I want to see the look on his face.”</p><p>Right, okay. That made the prospect of explaining that she'd gone and done something completely mad to the most intimidating person in her life a whole lot less...intimidating. If she was lucky, Bella would do all the talking, she could just sit there looking vaguely ashamed of her— Wait. “Do you think anyone’s likely to tell him about me almost getting Snivels killed?”</p><p>Bella raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m going to need a little more context.”</p><p>“It’s...kind of a long story.”</p><p>“Yes, well, we haven’t actually gotten food, yet. I think we have time.”</p><p>Well...<em>bugger</em>. </p><p>By the time she managed to finish explaining the whole fiasco — she had to go back and explain the incident by the lake, and the context of <em>that </em>and her feud with Evans and Snape too — they’d finished their entrees (the best lamb Asteria had ever had) and were picking at a rather large piece of baklava (which was also delicious, but after not eating enough for so long Asteria was stuffed).</p><p>“So, that’s pretty much it,” she concluded. “Do I need to tell him or not?”</p><p>“Eh...probably not. Dorea and Charlus have more or less taken custody of you and they won’t see any reason to inform him, especially since Dumbledore’s not likely to want it out there that he’s been hiding a werewolf up at the school, so <em>he’s </em>not going to mention it to anyone.” She <em>had </em>managed not to admit that she knew who the werewolf was, but Bella probably suspected she did anyway. “You can probably get away with completely omitting the whole thing, just present this transformation as an independent incidence of mad impulsivity. He won’t expect you to have a good reason, though if you tell him it’s the result of a potions accident he will almost certainly insist on finding someone to try to reverse it.”</p><p>“So, tell him the truth, and Dorea and Charlus—”</p><p>“Dorea yes, Charlus no. Unless you want to be as welcome at the Potters’ as you are with Walburga. He may think you’re a bit mad not to try to reverse an accident like this, but that’s better than the likely light freak-out over you getting mixed up in illegal blood magic and/or some kind of ritual.”</p><p>Asteria winced. Yeah, that would be bad. “He already thinks I’m a bit mad, I doubt he’ll be surprised if I tell him I’m just going to stay this way because it makes me feel pretty, or whatever.”</p><p>Bella snorted at that. “Oh, yes, because being three inches shorter makes so much of a difference. So, are we shopping or talking to Arcturus first?”</p><p>“Shopping? Who said anything about shopping?” Didn’t Bella have shite to do, baby Death Eaters to train? Somehow, Asteria found it difficult to imagine that she <em>didn’t </em>have plans...</p><p>“You can’t just raid my closet indefinitely.” Well, no. No, she couldn’t, because all of Bella’s clothes were <em>very </em>much her style, somehow both overly formal <em>and </em>overly casual — she'd put Asteria in a full-sleeved blouse, even fuller dueling trousers, and a "decorative" corset with a frankly absurd number of defensive enchantments worked into it — very dramatic in a <em>fae</em> sort of way, and entirely inappropriate for school. (The dress <em>Bella </em>was wearing at the moment was completely backless, the design carved into her skin hidden under a glamour of some sort.) Anyone who saw Asteria wearing her things would probably actually mistake her for Bella. (And even if that <em>weren’t </em>the case, she remembered belatedly she was supposed to hate Bella now, because Bella was evil, and killed people for fun. Casually borrowing her clothes seemed kind of like a tacit admission that she really didn’t.) “You decide while I settle up.”</p><p>Asteria just let herself flop back in her chair. This was going to be a <em>long </em>day, she could already tell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A Lateral Move</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bella brings Aster home. Dorea is not amused by her godson suddenly becoming her goddaughter.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dorea Potter (née Black) was — is, she is still alive — my godmother. She was the witch I ran to when I couldn’t stand being around my family any longer, the woman who gave me a home that <em>wasn’t </em>something out of a fucking nightmare, a place I felt <em>safe</em>. I hardly knew her as a child, though she’s my fifth cousin as well. If she hadn’t shared my name, I doubt I would have counted her as family before I met James, and we have, admittedly, grown distant in the years since the founding of New Avalon. Not quite <em>estranged</em>, as I am from my own parents, but distant. </p><p>She is, still, though, the only member of my family I’m certain actually loves me. </p><p>I know I’m a terrible disappointment to her, but that doesn’t change the fact that she was more a mother to me than Walburga. Especially in those last few years before I left my parents’ home, she was a voice of reason and calm support against their abuses, and perhaps the one person in the world I least wanted to hurt or disappoint...though that makes very little difference, really, in whether I <em>do</em>. I’m certain that I was a terrible source of anxiety and concern and pain to her, despite my best efforts because, well...those efforts were rather seriously undermined by the fact that I was a thoughtless teenager, and also a bit mad. <em>Avoiding </em>causing concern does rather require one to have some idea of what other people consider <em>concerning</em>, after all.</p><p>Running off in the middle of the night, for example, without so much as a note. Coming home “late” (by the standards of responsible adults who have been waiting by the floo since the small hours of the morning) after spending the day in the company of an insane Dark Lady. Spontaneously deciding to change sexes, because it seemed like a good idea at the time. All very disturbing behaviours which seemed perfectly reasonable to <em>me</em>.</p><p>In my defense, Bella <em>did </em>send a note — I still think it’s understandable I didn’t really <em>expect </em>Dorea to be so worried about me — and Arcturus was more <em>exasperated </em>than <em>concerned </em>by my sudden femininity, which predisposed me to expect that everyone else would be similarly dismissive of the physical consequences of my minor bout of insanity, even if they weren’t actually insane themselves. </p><p>Arcturus, however, <em>had </em>known me my entire life, he probably expected me to lose my mind eventually. He was also familiar with the Black Madness — turning myself into a girl was <em>far </em>from the most self-destructive thing any of us have been known to do on a mad whim — and trusted Bella’s judgment when it came to the health and safety of the children of the House (if nothing else). If she said I was fine (albeit female), he was willing to take her word for it. He was, of course, annoyed with Bella for wholeheartedly supporting me — Bella had been significantly less insane than I was at the time, and should therefore have somehow tricked me into <em>temporarily </em>becoming a girl instead of <em>super </em>permanently (“His Potions marks are so low, you probably could have told him there was a <em>permanent sex-change potion</em>, and he would have bought it!”) — but I’m fairly certain I don’t remember a time in my life when Arcturus <em>wasn’t </em>put out with Bellatrix for some reason or another.</p><p>Suffice it to say, that impression was <em>entirely </em>false.</p><hr/><p>“Okay, say something.”</p><p>Asteria sighed, rolling her eyes at her cousin, who was being <em>very silly</em>. “<em>Something</em>.” </p><p>Oh...that was weird. The glamour Bella had been setting <em>did </em>sound pretty much exactly like she had as a boy, the same voice she’d had for almost seventeen years, but even though it had been less than a day she’d already gotten used to hearing herself sound like a girl. Granted, she had talked <em>a lot </em>today — more than she had in weeks, probably, she’d still been pretty isolated and out of sorts even after Pete managed to drag her arse out of bed — but still. </p><p>“Ha, bloody ha. I think that will work, though. Come on, let’s go, I do have shite I need to get done today.” </p><p>It was already about eight, but “today” presumably had a different meaning when you routinely stayed up until nine or ten in the morning. This was one of the things Aster found she really envied about Bella’s lifestyle — being able to sleep, or not, whenever she liked, without anyone riding her arse about it. It was right up there with no one (other than de Mort) having the authority to tell her what to do in general. Which was <em>not </em>a good reason to join the Death Eaters, despite Bella’s teasing insistence that it was. </p><p>“You’re the one who wanted to walk me back. I could’ve just <em>apparated</em>.” She was <em>also </em>the one who’d wanted to stop and glamour Aster’s height and voice, in an effort to prove that no, her face really hadn’t changed as much as she thought it had. If Dorea and Charlus didn’t notice right away that there was something off about her, that would theoretically prove she still looked practically identical (aside from being a bit shorter now). </p><p>“Yeah, but I need to talk to Dorea, too.”</p><p>“About <em>what?”</em> Because Aster could not think of a single piece of business that involved both Bella and Dorea. They moved in very different circles. Like, opposite sides of a war.</p><p>Bella gave her a look that said she was being <em>very </em>stupid. “You, obviously. In case you’ve forgotten, everyone just realised you’re a little more insane than they thought. And becoming a girl isn’t exactly likely to help your case.”</p><p>...Oh. Right. “I didn’t <em>forget</em>...” She just...hadn’t been thinking about it, really. The real world, in general. Her actual life, she meant. It had been...years, probably, since she’d really spent much time with Bella. She’d forgotten how easy it was to get caught up in the...glamour, she supposed, of being a beautiful, wealthy young socialite with the world at your feet, eating at exotic restaurants which you had exclusively to yourself, and flitting in and out of shops as though there was nothing more important than shopping for new shoes and robes and tiny hats (which were the latest fad out of the Continent, apparently), everyone from the shopkeeps to the bloody goblins at the bank jumping to meet your every demand, heads turning as you strolled down the high street, their envy and admiration almost palpable. Going back to her normal life, with the Potters and school and people thinking she was insane, didn’t sound like <em>nearly </em>as much fun.</p><p>Of course, she <em>could </em>act like that on her own, Reggie and Cissy did all the time, but her friends wouldn’t...appreciate it. Pete and Remus didn’t have money to burn (not that she did either, anymore), and Jamie was too...self-conscious about their place in society to really <em>enjoy </em>it. Most of the nobles from younger Houses were like that, really — not <em>embarrassed </em>to be seen flaunting their wealth and status, but taking themselves too seriously when they did. Deliberately making a show of it, rather than simply going about their business without a care in the world, enjoying the perks of being, well, young and beautiful and wealthy and powerful. </p><p>And Aster would be lying if she said the fact that she was <em>with Bella </em>didn’t make it more fun. Because, honestly? Aster couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually talked to someone and felt like they really understood where she was coming from. Bella did. Which meant that, her being evil aside, spending time with her was just...<em>easy</em>, in a way it wasn’t with practically anyone else. She didn’t have to censor herself, avoiding saying anything too dark or too <em>mad </em>— she did <em>try </em>not to say anything too obviously insane most of the time — and since Bella actually understood her, all of her (entirely unasked for) advice on how to get her life back on track was actually <em>useful </em>and <em>practical </em>in a way nobody else’s <em>ever </em>was.</p><p>Regarding her ambitions to become an Auror, for example, and the fact that they <em>might, possibly </em>have a problem with her having no good explanation for how she had suddenly <em>become a girl </em>at the age of sixteen and was going to have a documented history of mental instability, on top of the fact that she was currently failing all of her classes, “<em>Don’t be an idiot, Aster, they’re fucking desperate. As long as you don’t get arrested for a violent offense before you leave school, I guarantee they won’t give a shite about the rest of it. They need fighters they can press into duty as unofficial </em>battlemages <em>— any halfway competent idiot they can throw on the front lines — not investigators,</em>” was much more reassuring than, “<em>Just focus on the present, Sirius. I’m sure John will be willing to certify you of sound mind, assuming you work with him.</em>” (Not that Dorea had actually been referring to Sirius’s prospects after leaving school, Aster hadn’t thought of that potential consequence when she was arguing that she didn’t want to talk to a mind healer, just that everyone would think she was mad in general. More so than they already did.)</p><p>Of course, Bella meant ‘halfway competent’ by her own standards, the Aurors still wouldn’t take just <em>anyone</em>. Pete, for example, was brilliant at theory and potions and enchanting, but he couldn’t cast for shite. And while they might overlook <em>becoming a girl</em>, they definitely wouldn’t overlook <em>becoming a werewolf</em>, which was why Remus was considering becoming a freelance cursebreaker. But they would almost certainly take Aster. </p><p>So, though she wasn’t exactly likely to admit it, Bella was one of her favourite people to spend time with. She hadn’t complained when Bella decided she wanted to walk to the Potters’ manor from the edge of their ward line. It was another twenty minutes she’d get to spend chatting with Bella, why would she mind? If she was in a hurry though, “We could’ve used the floo.”</p><p>“Do you really think the Potters would allow the likes of <em>me </em>through their floo security? <em>I </em>think they would’ve bounced me.”</p><p>...Right. Aster really did have a hard time remembering that Bella was evil and good people didn’t like murderers traipsing around their homes, sometimes. Or rather, that good people tended to prioritise the fact that Bella was a murderer over any of the other more socially acceptable hats she occasionally wore — she could just as easily be described as an academic or the First Daughter of the House of Black or a philanthropic advocate for the non-human beings of Britain — when deciding whether they wanted her in their homes. </p><p>“Would that actually <em>stop </em>you?” she asked, trying not to get too caught up on the idea that the Potters were good people — <em>normal </em>people (Dorea was the <em>least </em>Black member of the House Aster had ever met) — whose tolerance for Aster and/or Sirius being completely insane she <em>had </em>to be testing by now. </p><p>“Of course not, but shadow-walking in would be rude, and probably not incline them to listen to my advice on how to deal with you being a crazy person. Also, this way it’s far less likely I’ll have to talk to Charlus. He’s such a <em>twat</em>. Still hasn’t forgiven me for setting his hair on fire when I was eight. Which I maintain was not my fault, it’s not as though I was the one who put half a bottle of Sleekeasy on his bloody head, and it didn’t do any permanent damage, either, but— Oh, hi, Dorea!” she broke off, grinning at the older witch, striding toward them across the back lawn. “Fancy meeting you, here.”</p><p>Dorea ignored her, stepping forward to seize Aster’s shoulders instead, pulling her into a hug which was...not a thing Aster had expected her to do. In fact, she had edged slightly away, anticipating anger of some stripe or another, not <em>worry</em>. </p><p>Dorea pulled away quickly, which Aster thought at first was because she was being all stiff and awkward — even if she <em>had </em>been expecting it, she didn’t have a lot of experience <em>being hugged</em>, never quite knew what to do with her hands — but from the way she was squinting at Aster, that wasn’t why. “Are you... Are you glamoured to look taller? Why? Bellatrix! What have you <em>done</em>?!”</p><p>“It’s not her fault, Dorea,” Aster said quickly. Somehow, Dorea didn’t seem to find this reassuring.</p><p>Bella smirked at the two of them, as though to say, <em>aren’t you just precious</em>. She almost certainly didn’t <em>care </em>whether Dorea considered Aster’s transformation to be her fault or not, but <em>Aster </em>kind of <em>wanted </em>to take responsibility for it. It <em>had </em>been her choice, after all. “Yes, I didn’t expect you to hug her, or I’d have suggested a more comprehensive glamour. I <em>did </em>tell you not to panic, didn’t I, Doe?”</p><p>This, understandably, did absolutely nothing to stop Dorea growing more agitated. Aster snorted, asking, “Wait, you told her — literally, <em>actually </em>told her — <em>don’t panic</em>?” at the same time Dorea demanded, “Did you <em>shrink </em>him? How? Why?”</p><p>Bella’s eyes narrowed, a hint of confusion on her tone when she responded. “I did, yes. And that you were asleep, and I’d return you sometime this afternoon. Apologies for our tardiness,” she added, turning to Dorea. “Our meeting with Arcturus ran longer than I expected.”</p><p>Somehow, Aster suspected that Bella already knew this, and had specifically done it because she thought it was funny to make Dorea worry about Aster all day for nothing, but just in case... “You know when you tell people not to panic, the first thing they’re going to do is assume there’s a reason for them to panic?” Especially when <em>Bella specifically </em>told people not to worry, probably.</p><p>Yeah, that smirk said she was taking the piss. (Which would be funnier if it weren’t <em>Dorea </em>she was having on.) “That is <em>hardly </em>my fault. I simply assumed that she <em>would </em>be panicking because you disappeared in the middle of the night, and—”</p><p>“Bellatrix!” Dorea cut her off sharply. “Sirius! What the hell is going on, here? Where have you <em>been </em>all day?”</p><p>Aster couldn’t help shrinking back, just a little, more out of shame than fear. Dorea wouldn’t actually hurt her, even if getting yelled at by adults <em>was </em>most often quickly followed by getting cursed by them at Grimmauld Place.</p><p>“At the moment, we’re testing whether or not the only truly noticeable change is the height difference, and we’re calling her Asteria now.”</p><p>“<em>What. Are. You. Talking. About? </em>”</p><p>“What— Aster, why are you still glamoured?” Bella asked, peering briefly over her shoulder, before rolling her eyes at Dorea, and muttering, “<em>Children, honestly,</em>” which was rich, given this was her idea! But she broke the glamours anyway. “Sirius decided that he wanted to turn himself into a girl, so we did that, and then she slept it off for a while, and since then we’ve been shopping and informing Arcturus of recent developments. We also had lunch — for future reference, sleep is optional when mad but food isn’t, even if she says she’s not hungry.”</p><p>“Oh, shut up,” Aster grumbled. That had to be at least the third time she’d brought that up, now, which was also hypocritical of her, in Aster’s opinion, because Bella had <em>definitely </em>implied that she’d also passed out from forgetting to eat before, and their measurements were practically identical now. She was wearing one of Bella’s robes <em>right now</em>. (Yes, she knew there was a difference between half-starved and terrifyingly fit, but still.)</p><p>“You <em>turned him into a girl?!”</em></p><p>“Well, not <em>me, personally</em>, and really, it’s hardly a noticeable difference, but yes.”</p><p>“...Hi, Dorea,” she offered, slightly more audibly.</p><p>Dorea just <em>stared </em>at her for almost thirty seconds, apparently taken aback by her new appearance. (Even though her appearance had hardly changed. She was willing to bet she would’ve looked almost as much like Bella if she’d thought to put on a dress as Sirius.) “<em>Why? </em>And <em>how?</em> No, <em>why </em>first!”</p><p>“...It seemed like a good idea at the time?” </p><p>Bellatrix, on the other hand, gave her a sort of considering hum. “Remember that summer I decided that I wanted a familiar? Or when Arcturus first suggested I get married, and I told him I would convince anyone he attempted to sell me off to that I’d kill them if they went through with it? And remember how everyone told me that those were <em>terrible </em>ideas, but I went ahead and did them anyway, and caused way more collateral damage to people, property, and the reputation of the House than I would have if everyone <em>wasn’t </em>trying to oppose me at every turn? That’s basically why.”</p><p>“<em>Turning Sirius into a girl </em>is a <em>little </em>more extreme than setting a nest of Cleo’s Asps loose in the Keep, Bellatrix!” Dorea snapped, slightly hysterically. Aster bit her lip to keep from giggling. She hadn’t heard about that particular escapade, but that wasn’t exactly surprising — Bella had made more trouble as a kid than Sirius had even, there were probably <em>hundreds </em>of little stories about various incidents she’d caused over the years. She hadn’t heard about Bella setting Charlus on fire before today, either.</p><p>“Yes, well, if they had just let me have my basilisk, there would only have been <em>one </em>snake to deal with, not twelve. And it wouldn’t have been <em>nearly </em>as resistant to magic. But fine, the runic augmentation project, then, or playing <em>chase </em>with the werewolves.”</p><p><em>Playing </em>chase <em>with the </em>werewolves?! “<em>Wha— </em>Does that mean what I think it means?”</p><p>“If you think it means they try to hunt me down on the full moon, then yes. It’s <em>fun</em>.” Bella winked at her before turning back to Dorea. “Point is, Aster is basically me, but ten years younger, with a much easier childhood and, until about eighteen hours ago, male. There’s no harm in her being a girl, so there was no reason not to do it, and trying to stop her would have been <em>far </em>more effort than it would have been worth, and she probably would have found a way to do it anyway, with much greater risk and more collateral damage.” Which was basically the same reason Zee had given for her cooperation last night. Presumably they’d learned that fact together, at some point in the course of <em>Bella’s </em>teenage years.</p><p>Dorea took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself. It didn’t work. “Do you <em>know </em>how utterly <em>insane</em>— Why— How— This isn’t <em>permanent</em>, is it?”</p><p>“Oh, no, it definitely is. Thom was going to call on Hecate for Siri, but the Dark owed him a little payback for breaking the Covenant. It literally rewrote her fundamental identity. Doesn’t get much more permanent than that.”</p><p>Dorea seemed oddly incapable of just accepting this and moving on. “Why— Just, why, Sirius?” (“Asteria,” Bellatrix interjected.) “Why would you do this to yourself?”</p><p>As though it was some terrible thing, to be a girl? Granted, it had been <em>really fucking painful</em>, she probably wouldn’t have done it if she’d known how badly it was going to hurt, but. Aster gave her godmother a shame-faced grimace. “I don’t want to talk about it.”</p><p>“Well that is just too bad, young man! I want an explanation!”</p><p>“Young <em>woman, </em>and does it really matter?” Bellatrix asked, though Dorea ignored her, still focused on Aster.</p><p>She shifted awkwardly under her unrelenting stare. “I didn’t want to be Sirius Black anymore, okay? <em>Christ</em>. It’s not that big a deal, really.”</p><p>“Yes, Sirius,” (“Asteria.”) “it is a big deal! And the fact that you can’t see that... I’ve made you an appointment with John tomorrow, which you <em>will </em>be attending, and you <em>will </em>talk to him, and you <em>will </em>allow him to check whether you’re actually thinking as clearly as you claim, because in case you’ve forgotten, Bellatrix used the Cruciatus on you six months ago!”</p><p>Yes, and they’d talked about that, Aster was over it. (It wasn’t <em>six </em>months, anyway — it was closer to <em>ten</em>, which was almost a year, which was practically forever.) Bella, of course, was just as unrepentant now as she had been this morning...er...afternoon. “What’s a little Cruciatus between cousins? She knows she’s still my favourite.”</p><p>She did, or at least she’d suspected as much, but it was still nice to hear. Even if she didn’t give a shite about impressing anyone <em>else </em>in the House anymore.</p><p>Dorea ignored her interjection. “What happened to you hating everything to do with her and her so-called Lord?” </p><p>Right, yes...that. <em>I kind of ruined my life over the past month, and just remembered that I am, in fact, a crazy person, and Bella is the only person who really understands me, and besides, I’m still her favourite. </em>(It was easier to hate Bella when she’d thought Bella hated <em>her</em>.) “...I dunno,” Aster muttered, staring at Dorea’s shoes. “I just— It’s hard to remember they’re evil when they’re being nice to <em>me</em>!” It was actually kind of hard to feel anything as visceral as hatred at the moment, she realised, thinking about it. She mostly just felt...empty. Not <em>bad </em>empty, but like the emotional turmoil and angst and pain of the past few weeks was gone, leaving her kind of just...floating above the clouds in an odd sort of afterglow. Calm and content for once in her entire fucking life. She <em>remembered </em>what it felt like to hate Bella, she remembered that she <em>should </em>hate Bella, but she just...didn’t. It didn’t really feel <em>important</em>. She’d had a <em>good day</em>, not being Sirius Black, with his obligations to dislike people he actually <em>did </em>like, on principle. She <em>knew </em>Dorea was right to remind her of that, but she kind of couldn’t help resenting her a little for bringing her back down to earth. “It’s not like they’re trying to convert me anymore. De Mort actually said they <em>want </em>me on Dumbledore’s side, because he doesn’t have enough good people.”</p><p>“Well, it’s more he doesn’t have anyone who actually understands the game, but yes, we welcome your opposition. Also, evil is a matter of perspective, Doe. You used to know that.” Bellatrix gave her a sharp grin.</p><p>Dorea shivered, just a little. She had to have been raised in the traditions of the House, but the cadet branches weren’t <em>nearly </em>so steeped in Darkness as the main line — which was really just a slightly more poetic way of saying they weren’t nearly as mad and sadistic (inbreeding might keep them more <em>powerful </em>than the average mage, but it didn’t do their sanity any favours) — and Aster didn’t think she ever remembered Dorea attending a Family ritual. She’d said something after Yule about how she’d never much liked the holiday, which Aster figured meant she couldn’t set aside her revulsion to actually enjoy the high of subsuming the life and soul of the sacrifice. Kind of like Aster’s problem, but opposite. </p><p>See, Aster knew it was <em>wrong </em>to fucking <em>eat people</em>, but she had a really hard time not giving in to the hedonistic pleasure of it. Yes, she felt bad about it <em>after</em>, and it hurt, feeling the Dark moving in her soul, the corruption in her very blood, but the pain and guilt and everything she’d learned since venturing out into the world beyond the House screaming that <em>this is wrong </em>didn’t mean it didn’t also <em>feel </em>like the rightest thing she’d ever done — embracing the fact that she was a monster, just like the rest of them. Which of course only made her feel <em>more </em>guilty, once the holiday was over and she was surrounded by sane people who didn’t smirk at her like they knew exactly what she was thinking and <em>you’re allowed to give into it, it’s fine</em>, but in the moment? That didn’t matter even a <em>little </em>bit.</p><p>“War is not a game, Bellatrix. It’s life or death!”</p><p>The bitch’s grin didn’t falter. “Of course it is. All the best games have real consequences. That doesn’t mean it’s not a game. Aster knows what I mean, don’t you?” </p><p>Really<em>, Bella? </em>She didn’t want to answer that — she didn’t want to be having this conversation <em>at all</em>.</p><p>“It’s okay, she already knows you’re insane, remember?”</p><p><em>Ugh</em>, apparently Bella wasn’t just going to move on if Aster pretended she hadn’t heard the question. <em>Bitch</em>. She cleared her throat, giving herself another half-second to consider her words. “I think the important thing to remember is, even if war <em>is </em>a game, it’s not... I know it’s serious, okay, and people die — for real, real people with lives and families and friends — but that’s why it’s important that it <em>is </em>a game, with rules and strategies and— I mean, if it weren’t, if they just wanted to take over everything as quickly as possible, de Mort could just walk into the Wizengamot and compel them to make him Lord Protector and have done with it.” Not that she thought he actually <em>would</em>, if only because he hadn’t already done it, or asked Bella to start assassinating their kids or something until they surrendered to him. (Which she was <em>absolutely certain </em>Bella <em>would </em>do, if de Mort wanted her to.) “If we’re <em>playing</em>, we have a chance to <em>win</em>.”</p><p>(A <em>small </em>chance. <em>Maybe</em>.)</p><p>“Mmm, he couldn’t control <em>all </em>of the Wizengamot at once, or indefinitely, but yeah, basically. Do you <em>really </em>think I couldn’t bring this country to its knees, Auntie? My recruits outnumber the Aurors <em>and </em>Hit Wizards, the Ministry is pathetically unprepared for a full-scale civil war, and Albus Dumbledore would rather see Britain burn than admit to the ICW that he can’t deal with an up-and-coming Dark Lord in his own country. Even odds whether the Old Goat could beat Thom in a real fight, but the two of us could <em>definitely </em>take him. It would be bloody, but we could take over the country before Yule. The thing is, we don’t <em>want </em>to rule Britain — we just want Britain to recognise that we’re a significant power and that we refuse to accept the authority of the Ministry and the Wizengamot to dictate what magic we may or may not practise. We <em>are </em>willing to negotiate, if they would actually come to the table and treat with us as equals.”</p><p>That...actually sounded kind of reasonable. And now Aster was wondering what they actually wanted to negotiate <em>for</em>...</p><p>Didn’t seem like Dorea was, though. “You <em>aren’t </em>equals, Bellatrix! Britain is a sovereign nation! The Death Eaters are a bloody <em>cult</em>, rebelling against its legitimate authority!”</p><p>Bella let out a sharp <em>ha, </em>grinning in obvious delight as Dorea took the bait. “Britain is a nation that rules by the consent of its people, and we do not consent to the ridiculous limitations its government attempts to impose upon us. You’re free to think of it as a rebellion if you like — or a secession, or a revolution, or whatever. That doesn’t change the fact it <em>is </em>a game, and an asymmetrical one at that. The Ministry would see us beaten back into submission, killed or imprisoned. We simply want a treaty which guarantees our autonomy. Us breaking Britain and taking over its entire governing structure would win the war by conventional standards, but it wouldn’t be winning the game. Feel free to have Charlie pass that on to the Old Goat, I’m sure he could use the hint.” ...If the Potters didn’t, Aster might. Surely they’d agree to a ceasefire at the very least for the period of their negotiations. Even if they didn’t actually <em>get </em>anywhere with an actual <em>truce</em>, that would still be <em>something</em>. “And while you’re at it, you can tell him that Siri used a potion to turn himself into a girl <em>temporarily</em>, on a lark, but obviously it wasn’t brewed properly, since it was supposed to have worn off and it hasn’t.”</p><p>Er. Right. This wasn’t about politics. Fury warred with concern on Dorea’s face as she was also apparently reminded of that fact. Which meant Bella was just jerking them around, entertaining that little tangent. And now they were going back to talking about <em>Aster, </em>apparently. <em>Damn it!</em></p><p>“Which is fine, I don’t mind,” she added, in reference to her cover story. “If it wears off on its own, that’s fine, but we don’t have to go out of our way to try to get someone to reverse it, or anything.”</p><p>“You <em>really </em>expect people are going to accept that you’re just <em>fine </em>with having <em>accidentally </em>trapped yourself as a girl, indefinitely?” Dorea said, with what Aster considered to be an <em>unwonted </em>degree of sarcasm. </p><p>Yes, she knew most people would probably have a problem with something like this happening to them — she wasn’t a complete <em>idiot</em>. She could only <em>imagine </em>the shit-fit any of her roommates would pitch if <em>they </em>suddenly became girls. But honestly, she...didn’t think she would actually <em>mind </em>even if it <em>had </em>been an accident. She meant, Jamie and Pete had been accusing her of acting girly pretty much since they’d met her, and she’d never minded <em>that</em>. Or, well, she’d mostly thought it was kind of annoying they acted like it was such a bad thing, and, you know, being all <em>that’s just...not a thing blokes </em>do<em>, Sirius,</em> as though Sirius wasn’t a bloke and also doing whatever supposedly 'non-bloke' thing he was doing at any given moment, thus <em>actively proving them wrong, even as they spoke</em>. There were still times now, after five years and almost two months living with normal people, that Aster <em>still </em>thought outsiders were just...really fucking <em>weird</em>.</p><p>But they’d also been living with <em>her </em>for five years. If any of them honestly thought she would lie about not being okay about being turned into a girl, they clearly hadn’t been paying attention. In fact, being openly emotional and demonstrative about it was one of those ‘girly’ things she’d always done. If she was <em>upset </em>about being female, she wouldn’t hide it. “Yes? Why wouldn’t they? I mean, if I tell them I’m fine with it...”</p><p>“You are insane,” Dorea informed her, presumably in case she’d forgotten since <em>yesterday</em>. She <em>had </em>spent all day with <em>Bella</em>, so it had been probably almost sixteen hours since anyone called her insane like it was a <em>bad </em>thing (rather than just a <em>fact)</em>, but she <em>did </em>still know that. It wasn’t a huge fucking secret, or anything. “Do you— This is mad, Sirius.” </p><p>“Asteria. And it’s not, actually.”</p><p>“What, precisely, is <em>that </em>supposed to mean?” Dorea demanded, ignoring Bellatrix’s stubborn insistence on calling her godchild <em>Asteria</em>, which Aster kind of thought was a bit silly too. Obviously she knew Dorea was talking to her, she <em>had </em>been answering to "Sirius" literally her entire life. She did kind of like the idea of having a new name just to draw a hard line between her old life and her life <em>now</em>, moving forward, but it wasn’t <em>that </em>big a deal.</p><p>Bella shrugged. “Not sure if being put under that much pain burnt her out, or if Angel rewriting her fundamental identity and imposing it onto her body kind of reset her brain, but she’s not <em>actually </em>mad at the moment.”</p><p>Aster kind of thought de Mort might’ve done something — she <em>knew </em>he’d done something so she wouldn’t feel the physical after-effects of her metamorphosis properly. Granted, she didn’t know if that had worn off while she was asleep, but she suspected it hadn’t. If she thought about it, she was vaguely aware that she <em>should </em>still be in near-debilitating amounts of pain, that it was <em>there</em>, but just kind of...removed from her immediate consciousness, as though she’d taken about five times the recommended dose of a pain-reducing potion. Which was really kind of neat, and also vaguely terrifying, because he could probably do the opposite as well. (How more people didn't find mind mages <em>absolutely horrifying</em>, Aster would <em>never</em> understand.) </p><p>Bella said he couldn’t do that with the Madness, though. <em>She </em>was leaning toward the fundamental identity explanation, specifically <em>because </em>Aster wasn’t really feeling pain at the moment...and also wasn’t nearly as sleepy as Bella would have expected if she <em>were </em>completely burnt out. </p><p>But either way, she <em>wasn’t </em>actually out of her mind at the moment (despite the fact that <em>yes</em>, generally speaking, compared to <em>most people</em>, she was still a bit cracked, she was <em>aware</em>, thanks ever so), that was the important bit. “I feel fine, Dorea. <em>Actually </em>fine, not, <em>I’m lying because I don’t want to go talk to a mind-healer </em>fine. Though I still don’t want to go talk to Professor McKinnon.”</p><p>Dorea’s eyes narrowed dangerously, as though that was an <em>entirely unacceptable </em>opinion to hold. She wasn’t changing it, though. Just the very <em>concept </em>of mind-healers kind of wigged her out. Even more than <em>normal </em>legilimens. Sure, de Mort was a huge fucking creep, eavesdropping on her thoughts all the fucking time, but at least he didn’t pretend he had some kind of authority to dictate how she <em>should </em>think and declare her to be mad (<em>officially</em>) because she didn’t fit his definition of <em>normal</em>, or try to make her talk about...she didn’t know, <em>why </em>she was a crazy person, and how not to act like it? Maybe she was being overly defensive, here, but she didn’t want some judgy stranger poking around in her thoughts and knowing what a sick, twisted little freak she actually was. And what was he going to do about it, anyway? It wasn’t like she could try any harder to <em>act </em>like a socially-acceptable normal person, and she <em>would not </em>let him tweak her thought patterns to be more to his liking. She <em>knew </em>that was a thing mind mages could do, it was even more terrifying than being able to fuck with her perception of pain (and presumably anything else de Mort damn well pleased). There was no <em>fucking </em>way— </p><p>“Professor McKinnon, as in John McKinnon, the chief mind-healer at Saint Mungo’s?”</p><p>“He was a friend of my father’s,” Dorea said, sounding slightly defensive, probably because she didn’t really like acknowledging that she used her connections to get whatever she wanted any more than Jamie liked going around acting like Reggie.</p><p>“Yeah, Thom knows him, too. He’s good,” she told Aster. “You should go, if only because he can confirm for, you know, normal people that you really are okay with being a girl and stable enough to go back to school, and that you’re not Imperiused to try to assassinate Dumbledore or something. Not that we want him dead. He might get replaced by someone even <em>more </em>obnoxiously Light — or worse, <em>competent</em>.”</p><p>Aster glared at her cousin. “Are you telling me you can’t imagine why I might not want someone poking around in my mind?”</p><p>“Well, I kind of assumed it’s because you never got over Arcturus mind-raping you to stimulate a basic occlumentic defense? That’s why Cissy and Reg hate legilimency. Or I guess maybe because it reminds you of that time I saved your life, Thom did say I probably traumatised you for life doing that.”</p><p>“No— Well, <em>yes</em>, that was <em>awful</em>, and you <em>did </em>traumatise me for life—” <em>Literally</em>. That was the reason she couldn’t do dark magic without it hurting her — she’d been horribly over-sensitised to it in the process of saving her. It had also been suggested that part of the reason she and Bella were so alike was that Bella had made a deep impression on her still-forming mind, using sympathy to build a connection between them as she had, but Aster was pretty sure that was just Arcturus trying to find a way to blame Bella for everything. “—but I’m glad I’m alive, more than last night, at least, and— Hey! Don’t change the subject!”</p><p>Bella smirked. “Wasn’t.”</p><p>“Well, that’s not it,” she said, glaring at Bella over crossed arms, waiting for her to guess again. When she just continued to stare at Aster uncomprehendingly, though, she caved. “I just... I don’t want people to know what I think about...<em>certain things</em>.” She let her eyes dart toward Dorea, attempting to be subtle, but Dorea had been raised in the House the same as her, she definitely caught it. And she was too out of practice — or maybe just off guard, here in her own home — to hide that little flash of offence and pain, just for a second. <em>Damn it</em>. “How I, you know...<em>feel </em>about them.”</p><p>Bella rolled her eyes. “This isn’t about <em>me</em>, is it?”</p><p>“<em>No</em>, everyone already <em>knows </em>I’m conflicted about <em>you</em>.” Well, <em>everyone </em>was a bit of an overstatement, maybe, but the Potters definitely knew, and the Blacks. And de Mort, because he was a creepy fucking cheater who cheated. And pretty much all of the baby Death Eaters, because Reggie and Narcissa were gossipy bitches, and Sirius <em>had </em>attended summer training things on occasion for...a while, even after starting school. He hadn’t <em>last </em>summer, because he’d thought Bella hated him, what with their little spat over Yule, but.</p><p>“Okay, then... Is it a sex thing?” </p><p>Aster felt her face go hot. She had to be positively <em>scarlet</em>. <em>Yes, it’s a sex thing, a sex thing I didn’t want to discuss in front of Dorea, hence the offensive eye-flicking! </em> </p><p>Bellatrix laughed. </p><p>“It’s not funny!”</p><p>“You only think that because it’s <em>you</em>.” And then, because even if Bella <em>were </em>a mind mage and could hear Aster pointedly thinking about <em>not talking about this</em>, she would still live to make everyone around her uncomfortable, she elaborated for their audience: “Trust me, if we were talking about someone <em>else </em>not wanting to talk to a mind-healer because the mind-healer might think they were too dark for harbouring certain sadomasochistic inclinations, when said person <em>apparently </em>tried to arrange for an enemy to be <em>mauled by a werewolf </em>the day before, you would think it was hilarious, too.”</p><p>“Bella!” That was <em>not </em>the point, because they <em>weren’t </em>talking about someone else! Aster tried to smack her bitch of a cousin, but Bella was faster and stronger than her, and so easily caught her wrists. Which meant Aster was forced to settle for kicking her in the shin and pouting. (Which Bella thought was almost as funny as embarrassing her and Dorea, she could tell.) “I hate you. Why would you say that in front of Dorea?!”</p><p>“Liar. And I’m pretty sure we talked about this? Even the lightest of prejudiced light bastards really can’t complain about anyone else’s sex life as long as everything you do is with consenting adults.” Or (assuming you didn’t get caught) muggles, who could just be obliviated or killed afterward. That was a thing Bella had actually said, back when they’d talked about this. She had, in fact, thought that that was why Sirius was going around fucking muggles in the first place, which had <em>horrifying </em>implications, which Aster had never really thought about because she’d been <em>far </em>too distracted by the rest of the conversation. “There’s really no reason to be ashamed of what turns you on — it’s not like you <em>chose </em>to think any particular thing is hot.” </p><p>Aster wrenched her wrists free, turning away to glower at nothing in particular, muttering under her breath. Like Bella was ever ashamed of <em>anything</em>. She had no idea what the fuck she was on about. Even if she was technically right, it wasn’t <em>illegal </em>to play sex games that happened to be a little <em>sharper </em>than most (if you could find someone to play with), that <em>definitely </em>didn’t mean people wouldn’t <em>definitely </em>judge her for it, if they knew.</p><p>“I cannot hear you when you mumble, Asteria,” Bellatrix said, in an uncanny impression of Walburga. (Which was <em>not </em>funny enough to make up for talking about Aster being a freak in front of Dorea, seriously, she was <em>already </em>making it <em>very clear </em>she was insane these past couple of days, she didn’t need any help!)</p><p>“I <em>said</em>, <em>you’re </em>not ashamed of <em>anything</em>. But <em>normal people </em>don’t think like you, and you <em>know </em>that, and even if they <em>did</em>, or if I <em>weren’t </em>fucked in the head, I <em>still </em>wouldn’t want people knowing how I want to shag them, okay!” Not that she’d ever thought about shagging Dorea, specifically — or, well, maybe like...twice — but just as a general rule she didn’t want anyone knowing how she wanted to shag <em>anyone</em>. </p><p>“You’re not <em>fucked in the head</em>, Sirius,” Dorea tried to assure her over Bellatrix giggling like a demented schoolgirl. This was, in fact, a ridiculous thing to say, because if she weren’t fucked in the head, and Dorea didn’t damn well know it, she wouldn’t be <em>insisting </em>that Aster go talk to a bloody mind-healer, would she!</p><p>“It’s <em>Asteria</em>. And Dorea’s either lying or delusional. Literally <em>everyone </em>is fucked in the head in some way or other, any mind healer will tell you the same thing. Speaking of which, McKinnon <em>is </em>a professional — if you ask him to take a vow of secrecy, he will. He’s already taken the same oaths as any other healer, too. That <em>is </em>one of the reasons people talk to people like him instead of just getting smashed and confessing all their deepest, darkest secrets to their local barkeep.”</p><p>Aster felt herself waver, though more because Bella actually seemed to think her talking to a mind-healer was a good idea too, than because she’d reminded her she could ask for an oath of secrecy. (She was pretty sure she’d rather actually get smashed and rant at Rosie down at the Three Brooms than try to talk to some old professor-ish bloke she’d never met stone-cold sober.) As far as she knew, Bella didn’t think much better of legilimens (other than de Mort) than Aster did. But kind of like she’d brought up Aster being too fucking skinny multiple times today, she wouldn’t have turned the conversation back to McKinnon again if she didn’t have an <em>opinion </em>on the matter. “Are you... You really think I should go talk to this guy?”</p><p>“I think if you <em>don’t</em>, you’ll have time after I leave to brood and get all paranoid and twisted up over whether Thom fucked with your head, and guilty over almost getting that kid killed, and generally miserable because you <em>know </em>this doesn’t change anything with Jamie, and spiral into one of those really ugly <em>downs </em>and probably starve to death or something because <em>you </em>don’t have someone like Thom to look out for you when you’re mad—”</p><p>“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bella,” Aster interrupted, sarcasm heavy in her tone.</p><p>“Oh, did you want me to tell you pretty lies about how you’re going to be just fine now forever, and being turned into a girl has completely resolved the fundamental dissonance between your actual personality and the person you pretend to be for your little light friends? Because it is not and has <em>never </em>been my job to coddle you.”</p><p>Well that was <em>pointed</em>. She was <em>aware </em>that Bella didn’t think much of her friends, but Aster wasn’t just <em>pretending </em>to be a good person to fit in with them! “Oh, <em>fuck you</em>, Bella!”</p><p>She smirked. “You’re not <em>nearly </em>mad enough at the moment to actually enjoy the sort of games I play.” Aster’s face grew <em>very </em>hot again, prompting cackling from her cousin. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. So, run off and pretend you’re having a sulk,” she said, shooing her toward the house. “Just remember to lock the door this time.”</p><p>If possible, Aster’s face grew even redder, mostly because, well...Bella wasn’t <em>wrong </em>about the terrible, <em>terrible </em>thoughts she’d just inspired. (Even if she wasn’t mad enough at the moment to actually <em>enjoy </em>any of the things she knew and/or suspected Bella and de Mort got up to, <em>thinking </em>about those thingswas still fucking hot.) But even if she <em>did </em>still want to know what it felt like to come as a girl, and <em>was </em>currently thinking about all the things she’d like to do to Bella for bringing up the fact that she was a sadistic fucking freak <em>in front of Dorea </em>(Bella would never let Aster <em>actually </em>play-torture her, if they ever <em>did </em>do anything, it would almost certainly go the other way, but a girl could dream), that wasn’t why she turned on her heel and stalked off toward the kitchen door. </p><p>Aster was, contrary to popular belief, capable of taking a hint, on occasion...assuming she was inclined to listen to whoever was trying to give her said hint in the first place. Bella <em>clearly </em>wanted to talk to Dorea <em>alone</em>, which on the one hand was slightly ominous — she’d said she wanted to talk to Dorea about Aster, and Aster was <em>instantly suspicious </em>of any conversation <em>about </em>her that people didn’t want to have <em>in front of her </em>— but on the other hand, this was <em>Bella</em>. It was vanishingly unlikely that she’d hesitate to say <em>anything </em>in front of <em>anyone</em>, especially to avoid hurting or offending them. She probably just didn’t want Aster constantly interrupting and dragging the conversation off topic. (She was aware that was a thing she tended to do.) </p><p>So, fine. She’d go find somewhere else to be. Now that she was thinking of it, since she didn’t have any <em>other </em>plans at the moment, she actually might go “have a sulk.” Not because Bella told her to, but just because, well... </p><p>There were worse ways to distract herself from the whole <em>must talk to the mind-healer </em>thing...which she was <em>not </em>going to think about, because if there was <em>anything </em>that was <em>not </em>sexy, it was the idea of some creepy old legilimens poking around in her head.</p><p>...And now she was thinking about the shite Bella and de Mort probably did with legilimency. (<em>God damn it.</em>) Knowing de Mort, she was betting he liked to possess people while he fucked them. Creepy fucking shite. Though, if Bella was half as willing to do anything he wanted as Aster was for Jamie, she probably didn’t mind. In fact, if Jamie were a legilimens, and could just eavesdrop on her constantly and correct her when she started doing things <em>wrong</em>, that...might be kind of— </p><p>She let out a startled, high-pitched yelp as she wandered (distracted) through the back door and almost walked directly into Charlus.</p><p>This <em>very obviously </em>startled Charlus nearly as badly, as he dropped the bowl of ice-cream he’d been fetching for himself, barely managed to catch it with a levitation charm before it shattered on the floor. (Not that the bowl wouldn’t have been salvageable, but the ice-cream would’ve been ruined...as much as butterscotch-chip cinna-mint ice cream <em>could </em>be further ruined. <em>Ew</em>.) “Good evening to you, too, Si...” he trailed off halfway through Aster’s name, staring at her with a slightly befuddled expression. “Is it just me, or are you shorter today than you were yesterday?”</p><p>Aster tried and failed not to groan <em>very </em>audibly. They were going to have to have <em>this </em>conversation, <em>now</em>? (Neither defending her sudden transformation and her complete lack of desire to 'fix' it <em>nor </em>having repetitive conversations in general was even the <em>least </em>bit hot...)</p><p>She was still trying to convince Charlus that it was weirder to be eating <em>butterscotch-chip cinna-mint</em> ice cream <em>with strawberry jam on top</em> (she'd been wrong, it <em>could</em> be further ruined...) than to not care about suddenly becoming a girl when Dorea followed her back inside, almost twenty minutes later, she thought. This did <em>not </em>bode well for her prospects filling Jamie in on the situation. He and Charlus were <em>very </em>similar in their attitudes about...most things except werewolves, actually. (Charlus was, if anything, more willing to dismiss shite Sirius said and/or did because he assumed there was some generational thing he was missing — that this was just some thing the kids were doing these days, and thank God James wasn’t so easily swayed by every passing fad.)</p><p>“Charlie, love, would you mind giving me a few minutes to talk to Sirius one-on-one?” she asked, in that tone that implied there was only one right answer. </p><p>Charlus shrugged, taking another bite of the horrible chimera in his bowl and waving vaguely toward the hallway door with his spoon. “Of course, Doe. Perhaps you will be better able to wrap your mind around this unexpected turn of events. You can explain it to me, because, I’m sorry, Sirius, but I’m afraid I just don’t understand you some days.”</p><p>Aster shrugged. She was <em>pretty sure </em>Charlus didn’t actually <em>ever </em>understand her — most people didn’t — but he was at least a good sport about it, just sort of rolling with her being a fucking weirdo.</p><p><em>“Perhaps</em>,” Dorea said drily, as though she <em>very </em>much expected that she wasn’t going to get it either, which she probably wasn’t, because it...wasn’t a difficult concept? Honestly, Aster kind of thought if she didn’t comprehend by now that Aster <em>didn’t care </em>that she was a girl, she probably wasn’t <em>going </em>to, because Aster couldn’t think how else to explain it. “Sirius,” she said firmly, gesturing for Aster to follow her to her sitting room.</p><p>She did, of course. If she <em>didn’t</em>, Dorea would follow her to <em>her </em>room, and then she would have nowhere to retreat to if the conversation went south. She kind of <em>hated </em>that she found herself making the same sort of strategic calculations here with Dorea as she would with Walburga, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She didn’t <em>like </em>people demanding to speak to her alone any more than when they demanded to talk <em>about </em>her <em>without </em>her present. It almost always meant she was going to be yelled at and probably cursed. (Though, this <em>was </em>Dorea, so probably just yelled at.) Plus, there was a liquor cabinet in here. Granted, it only held a handful of cordials and brandies for pre-dinner drinks, but there was an open bottle of port, Aster could work with that. </p><p>Or she could if Dorea didn’t say “Sit down, Sirius,” as soon as she moved to pour herself a sangaree. </p><p><em>Bugger</em>. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink? <em>I </em>want a drink...”</p><p>“No, Sirius, I would like you to sit.”</p><p><em>Double bugger.</em> She sat. Barely, on the very edge of an altogether too-comfortable armchair, practically vibrating with the need to <em>move</em>, not just <em>sit here waiting </em>for whatever was going to happen. (Yes, she knew this was irrational, Dorea wasn’t going to hurt her, this was just going to be <em>painfully awkward</em>.) She also pouted, because <em>Dorea </em>didn’t sit, she paced between the coffee table and the sofa opposite Aster’s chair, practically rubbing it in that, on top of dragging Aster in here to yell, she was going to make her be still and sober and therefore <em>even more miserable </em>while she did it. </p><p>“What did Bella want to tell you?” she asked, more in the hope of derailing whatever 'conversation' Dorea was planning than because she actually <em>cared</em>. There wasn’t really much more Bella <em>could </em>tell Dorea that Aster didn’t want her to know. Honestly she’d be a <em>little </em>surprised if Dorea hadn’t already at least <em>suspected </em>that she was a twisted, fucked up little shite, even. (Assuming Dorea had ever thought about the sort of things Aster thought were sexy, which she probably hadn’t? Maybe? <em>Hopefully</em>...) It wasn’t as though the fact that Aster was more like Bella than anyone (other than Bella, and sometimes Aster) was really comfortable with was much of a secret.</p><p>“I don’t even know where to start,” Dorea muttered, before looking over at Aster and coming abruptly to a halt. “Did you really do this because Jamie doesn’t fancy boys?”</p><p>Okay, maybe there <em>had </em>been something Bella could tell Dorea to make this conversation <em>even more uncomfortable</em>. “No, of course not, that would be insane,” she said as calmly as possible, maintaining eye-contact and making a concerted effort not to fidget. </p><p>Dorea made a disgusted sort of scoff at her. “Lying to me right now would be a <em>fantastically </em>bad idea, Sirius Orion. Would you like to revise your answer?”</p><p>“...What happens if I don’t?”</p><p>“I’m sure Albus will allow James to come home this evening as well, if you are so reluctant to speak to <em>me</em>.”</p><p>Aster was...pretty sure she was bluffing. Not about Dumbledore letting Jamie come home too, if Dorea asked him to, but about Dorea dragging James home to talk to her. James had been even more lost and uncomfortable with the revelation that his best mate was a crazy person than Dorea. She, at least, was aware of the sort of insanity that ran in their family, even if she didn’t have much experience dealing with it. Yes, Aster <em>would </em>be more willing to talk to James, but she didn’t want to freak him out, so that would be kind of counterproductive on the whole <em>honesty </em>front.</p><p>She wasn’t sure enough to call her out on it, though. (Dorea was a much better liar than Aster.)</p><p>“James’s sexual preference was a consideration. Not the primary one. Or, well, that <em>is </em>why I thought of becoming a girl instead of...” Instead of doing something even <em>more </em>self-destructive. Like maybe finding some underground alchemist to get her so blissed out on viv that she didn’t have to <em>think </em>or <em>feel </em>anything, ever again. “I just...couldn’t stand the thought of <em>being Sirius Black </em>anymore. That’s why I actually <em>did </em>it. Went through with it, I mean.”</p><p>“I don’t suppose it occurred to you at any point to, oh, I don’t know, <em>talk to me </em>about <em>not wanting to be Sirius Black?”</em></p><p>Of <em>course </em>it hadn’t. “No. And even if it had, I wouldn’t have.” Dorea raised an eyebrow in a silent command to elaborate. Apparently that answer was insufficient. “You would’ve tried to talk me into being okay with being Sirius and thinking that my life <em>isn’t </em>total <em>shite</em>, and I would’ve had to let you think it worked, because if I didn’t, or you didn’t believe me, you’d’ve dragged me off to Janus Thickley so I couldn’t fucking off myself or something, and that <em>wouldn’t solve the problem</em>. Not even a <em>little </em>bit.”</p><p>“And turning yourself into a <em>girl </em>does solve the problem?”</p><p>“Er...kind of? More than being locked in a mental ward restrained and dosed to the gills, at least.” Because she didn’t have the <em>slightest </em>doubt that, if she’d thought she was going to be trapped in hospital for being a crazy person, she <em>would </em>resist. If she <em>wasn’t </em>able to escape, she was <em>pretty sure </em>she would’ve just kept spiraling <em>down</em>, and— She really didn’t want to think about it. It wouldn’t have been good, she knew that much. “And if I got away, or you did believe me, I would still have had to <em>do something</em>, so if I’d thought of it I still would’ve passed on all that.” She wasn’t sure Dorea understood the <em>need </em>to just <em>do something</em>, <em>right now</em>, to address a problem, even if it didn’t actually <em>solve </em>it (and in fact often just made things worse). Sitting around and <em>talking it out</em> wasn’t nearly <em>enough</em>. Especially with someone who didn’t understand her, really. If she <em>did</em>, she wouldn’t have made such a ridiculous suggestion. </p><p>“Do you really think I know you so poorly as all that, Sirius?” <em>Kind of, yeah</em>. “There’s really no need to go to such extremes to– to draw attention to the fact that you need <em>help</em>.”</p><p>Wait, what? “Are you even listening to me? This isn’t some kind of <em>crying for attention </em>or— I thought Bella was joking about that!” She <em>had </em>warned Aster that she was probably going to get more shite about being a crazy person now than she would have if she <em>hadn’t </em>become a girl overnight. “I don’t <em>want </em>help. Not if your idea of <em>help </em>is sitting around talking about shite.” As opposed to making sure she did whatever stupid thing she was <em>definitely going to do </em>in the least stupid way possible. (Zee really was <em>very </em>good at managing crazy people — Aster should send her a thank you and/or sorry I woke you in the middle of the fucking night gift...)</p><p>“Ah, yes, because it’s <em>far </em>more helpful to indulge your mad whims and ask the Dark Itself to <em>turn you into a girl</em>.”</p><p>Aster’s eyes narrowed involuntarily at that. “Yes, it is. It’s not— I can’t just <em>not be insane</em>, Dorea. Me being a girl isn’t hurting anyone— Well, it did hurt <em>becoming </em>a girl, because the Dark was kind of annoyed with me, but it’s not hurting anyone <em>else</em>, it barely even <em>matters</em>. I mean, I’m level enough to realise it doesn’t <em>actually </em>solve the problem—” It was kind of a lateral move, honestly. “—but at least <em>trying </em>to do <em>something</em>, <em>that </em>helped. And, you know, Bella’s really good at <em>practical </em>advice, which is a lot better than just sitting around like this with me trying to explain that the entire fucking world was collapsing on top of me and I needed to <em>get out</em>, and having you try to convince me that it <em>wasn’t </em>and I <em>didn’t</em>, which is what would’ve happened if I woke you up last night — pretty much the opposite of help.”</p><p>Of course, it probably helped that Aster was thinking a lot more clearly now than she had been last night, but she was <em>pretty sure </em>that if she’d wanted to do something that was actually <em>bad</em>, something that would have hurt her in a permanent, debilitating sort of way — like if she’d showed up at Zee’s asking for the name of a viv supplier instead of a blood alchemist, for example — Bella would’ve made her practise dueling or something until she was too sore and exhausted to think or feel much of anything and then made her explain what was going on, and <em>then </em>given her practical advice on how to fix things with Jamie so the world would stop falling apart. (And probably made her eat something.) Because that was what she <em>needed</em>, not Dorea questioning whether turning herself into a girl was a good or bad thing, as opposed to just <em>a thing that had happened </em>— it was fucking irrelevant, okay!</p><p>As was, “Forgive me if I can’t wholeheartedly support the idea of <em>Bellatrix </em>advising you on how to maintain your sanity, Sirius.” Aster rolled her eyes. Yes, Bella was insane, but her being a fae, psychotic Dark Lady had nothing to do with the Black Madness. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young man! Bellatrix is the <em>last </em>person you should be listening to in such a vulnerable state of mind!”</p><p>“Bella’s <em>literally </em>the only person who actually <em>gets </em>my state of mind, Dorea! What do you think she’s going to <em>do</em>? Convince me to get a pretty matching tattoo and go murder some eight-year-olds with her? They don’t <em>want </em>me to fall in line, that would be <em>boring</em>!”</p><p>“War is not a <em>game</em>, Sirius!”</p><p>Not to the <em>light</em>, at least. “That’s not— That has nothing to do with what I’m saying! Life without conflict isn’t worth living, okay? And before you say it, I <em>know </em>that sounds insane, but—”</p><p>“It <em>sounds </em>insane because it <em>is </em>insane, Sirius! <em>This </em>is why I don’t like you spending time with her, you come home sounding <em>just </em>like her!”</p><p><em>Bull-fucking-shite! </em>This was Aster trying to be honest and explain what the fuck she was thinking for once, because Dorea said she wanted Aster to talk to her instead of running off and doing something insane! “If you want to hear me sound like Bella, I can do that,” she snapped, popping back to her feet and holstering her wand — she hadn’t even noticed she was holding it, anxious habit. She tossed her hair and turned toward the liquor cabinet again, throwing a confident smirk back over her shoulder. “Sure you don’t want a drink, Doe?” she asked lightly. “Might help you come to terms with the fact that Aster and I are practically the same fucking person — which, I note, anyone who’s been paying attention has known since little Sirius was about <em>five</em>. But you didn’t know him back then, did you?” She took a sip of her drink, and added a bit more brandy. “Back when he was still being trained to be the heir of the House.” She leaned against the arm of her chair rather than sitting down properly and (ignoring the <em>highly </em>disturbed expression on Dorea’s face) injected a tone of mischief and familiarity into her voice as she continued, as though it was a secret she wasn’t meant to share that, “He was good at it, you know. Everything the adults could have asked for, really. Clever and cruel and completely unbiddable. A proper Lord Black bows to no one, you know, not <em>ever</em>. Makes it a bit difficult to <em>teach </em>a child anything, but that’s what beatings and pain curses are for. Did you know when he was seven and dying, the only reason he wanted to live was to spite his father?” She let an edge of amusement creep into her tone. “Just adorable. I told him never to let them break him, you know. That’s half the reason he threw himself so strongly into the light — not because he somehow inherently knew 'right' from 'wrong' at the age of twelve despite a childhood spent in the Darkest House, but simply because <em>fuck them</em>. If Aster were to <em>stop </em>resisting the Cause, I think I might actually be <em>disappointed </em>in her.” Aster dropped the act, letting her vaguely amused smirk collapse into a glower. “Do I need to keep going?”</p><p>Dorea hesitated, apparently needing a moment to find her voice. “That...depends entirely on what point you’re trying to make, Sirius.”</p><p>“I don’t know— I know you hate her, okay. I know she’s fucking <em>evil</em>, and it doesn’t say anything good about me that she’s the only person who really gets me, but she does, and she’s never given me bad advice. I...trust her. She’s not shy about thinking you and Jamie are just as bad an influence on me as you think she is, but she wouldn’t take advantage of me being a crazy person.” Not that Aster could really think of any way she <em>could</em>. Or rather, she didn’t think she was any more vulnerable to Bella’s influence when she was especially mad, she was always kind of— </p><p>“You <em>trust </em>her. Have you <em>forgotten </em>that she used the Cruciatus on you last Yule?”</p><p>“Yeah, we covered this earlier, didn’t we?” She knew Dorea had brought it up, because Bella’s response had been that Aster was still her favourite. “It’s fine. Yule was like, nine months ago. That’s like <em>forever</em>. And she didn’t mean it, not really. So, I’m over it.”</p><p>“Sirius! You don’t <em>forgive </em>people for using <em>Unforgivable Curses </em>on you! And I <em>know </em>you’re smarter than that — you have to <em>feel </em>a curse like that. She can’t have <em>not meant it</em>.”</p><p>“She doesn’t <em>hate </em>me, though. And there were extenuating circumstances. It was <em>Yule</em>. And she was right, I <em>was </em>trying to get a rise out of her. And if I want to forgive her for it—”</p><p>“Sirius,” Dorea interrupted, suddenly sounding like she was about to cry, what the hell? “There are no <em>extenuating circumstances </em>that can excuse using the Cruciatus on someone, and it’s <em>not </em>your fault if someone chooses to hurt you. Not <em>ever</em>.”</p><p>Aster just stared at her for a long moment — marveling at the differences there must have been between their childhoods, if Dorea actually <em>believed </em>that. “If you know the rules and the consequences if you break them, and you break them <em>anyway</em>, and keep going even after you’re warned to stop, it kind of is your fault. And in case you’ve forgotten,” since it had been at least ten years since Dorea had attended a Yule ritual, she never had, as long as Aster could remember, but she had to have when she was a kid, “obscene violence and murder and <em>eating people </em>seems like perfectly normal, reasonable shite when you’re <em>that </em>close to the Dark. It’s not her fault her self-control wasn’t quite as good as usual.” Seriously, Aster wasn’t certain she’d <em>ever </em>seen Bella <em>not </em>holding herself back. Maybe the last time she’d seen an <em>everybody against Bella </em>training exercise? But even then, she actually lost because she was trying not to kill anyone (and some of the older Death Eaters jumped in to help the trainees). </p><p>“Stop trying to defend her, Sirius, <em>please</em>,” Dorea said, almost desperately. “You can’t use the Cruciatus on someone if you don’t want to hurt them, full stop.”</p><p>“I’m not trying to <em>defend </em>her, I’m just trying to explain why it’s not as big a deal as— Look. I <em>know </em>that. That you have to want to hurt someone to use the Cruciatus on them. But that doesn’t mean the same thing to Bella as it does to normal people. She always wants to see <em>everyone </em>in pain. And I’m not entirely convinced she understands how normal people experience the Cruciatus, either.” Honestly, the moment of elation and mental clarity that followed the curse being <em>lifted </em>meant it wasn’t the worst pain curse <em>Aster </em>could think of, either. That one Cygnus used to use that felt like burning alive, for example, hurt almost as much, and sort of <em>lingered</em>, drawing out the misery so there was no high after. “She and de Mort use it for fucking <em>foreplay</em>. Which, yes, that’s completely fucked up,” she added quickly, forestalling an interruption. “That’s what she meant, when she said I’m not mad enough to enjoy her games—” Not mad enough <em>now</em>, which had...interesting implications that Aster really didn’t need to get distracted thinking about in front of Dorea, <em>stop it, brain! </em>“—but obviously <em>pain </em>and <em>hurting people </em>doesn’t mean the same thing to her as it does to us.” Well, to Dorea at least. Aster...really didn’t know about herself. She wasn’t sure she <em>wanted </em>to. The <em>idea </em>of mixing up sex and pain was just...<em>fascinating</em>, but she’d never actually <em>done it</em>. It could be one of those things that sounded nice but she really, <em>really </em>hated in reality, like actually dating Marlene for all of two minutes last spring. “And I believe her when she says being that close to the Dark seriously fucks up her self-control.” </p><p>And speaking of Yule, there was a part of her that kind of thought she deserved that Cruciatus — not for antagonising Bella, it was definitely a disproportionate response to <em>that</em>, but for participating in Yule herself. For<em>enjoying </em>it. She deserved <em>some </em>kind of punishment for that, she thought. But even if Dorea might actually agree with that sentiment, Aster wasn’t entirely comfortable admitting aloud. That she <em>did </em>enjoy it.</p><p>“That’s <em>not an excuse</em>, Sirius!”</p><p>“I don’t care, I’m excusing her anyway.” It wasn’t like she hadn’t known for <em>ages </em>that Bella wasn’t the perfect storybook heroine she’d seen her as when she'd been a little kid, but she was still the only person who’d been on her side for those last few awful years before she’d been able to go to school. The actual curse itself wasn’t nearly enough to make her turn on Bella, especially now she knew Bella didn’t hate <em>her </em>— <em>that</em>, thinking Bella was done with her, had hurt <em>much </em>more than the Cruciatus, if she was honest. “You can’t make me hate her.”</p><p>“I shouldn’t have to <em>make you </em>hate her, Sirius, she’s a murderer! She <em>enjoys killing people</em>.”</p><p>“Yes, and that’s <em>fucking awful</em>, but she doesn’t ask <em>me </em>to kill people — she doesn’t even ask me to do dark magic! And that has <em>nothing </em>to do with her giving me good, practical advice on how to deal with being a fucking crazy person! Which I trust she <em>will</em>, because she’s always, <em>always </em>tried to teach me shite I need to know, and she’s never tried to trick me into hurting myself or been cruel to me just for the sake of it, which is <em>not </em>something I can say about anyone <em>else </em>who would know a damn thing about dealing with being completely <em>insane</em>!” Orion, for example, was mad — in more of a <em>down </em>way than Bella, the way Aster had refused to get out of bed for the better part of a week was a lot like him...though he would probably have been drunk or numbing himself with poppy tea as well as lost in his own misery — presumably both he and Walburga knew how to deal <em>his </em>being a crazy person. But Aster wouldn’t trust either of them to actually want to <em>help </em>her.</p><p>“Like what?” Dorea demanded, suspicion in every tense muscle of her face, the set of her shoulders...</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“What kind of <em>good, practical advice </em>did she spend the day filling your head with?”</p><p>“...I don’t know, just...<em>stuff</em>.” Stuff that she was pretty sure Dorea wouldn’t approve of. Though she obviously didn’t approve of Aster not telling her, either, a disapproving glare following her as she paced behind her chair — she never had sat down again, she realised, and she was still holding her empty glass. She set it down on a side-table with a firm <em>clink</em>, rather than pour herself another, because she wanted to be like Orion even <em>less </em>than she wanted to be like Bellatrix. Bella might be unapologetically <em>evil </em>and nearly incapable of dealing with normal people outside of formal events without fucking <em>terrifying </em>them, but at least she <em>enjoyed </em>her life. “Make a habit of taking nutrient potions and find someone I trust to tell me if I’m acting like a crazy person.” </p><p>That one was slightly complicated by the fact that James wasn’t speaking to her. Pete and Remus would <em>notice</em>, and Pete wouldn’t be too timid to tell her off — as evidenced by the fact that he <em>had</em>, a couple of weeks ago — but she was pretty sure that James was the only one of them she would be willing to <em>listen </em>to if he told her she needed to get her head out of her arse. And because Bella didn’t trust that James would recognise or be able to figure out how to deal with Aster being more insane than usual (especially if he had his <em>own </em>head stuck up <em>his </em>arse), she was also under orders to, “Answer her letters so she knows if I’m getting too <em>up </em>to judge my own limits, or so <em>down </em>I’m fucking suicidal.” </p><p>(How Bella was planning on telling that from letters, Aster wasn’t really sure, because she certainly wouldn’t just <em>tell </em>her. She’d just said Aster should go back and look at her diary over the past couple of months, and it would be fucking obvious.)</p><p>Dorea’s eyes narrowed even further at the idea of Aster having even <em>more </em>contact with Bella. <em>Called it</em>... “No. I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, just... If you want to write to someone, write to me, or Andromeda. Not <em>her</em>.”</p><p>“I still haven’t heard back from Andromeda. And, no offence, Dorea, but...” No. She couldn’t bring herself to say it. That she didn’t actually trust Dorea enough to be honest with her. She couldn’t hurt her like that. Which was actually part of the reason she couldn’t be honest about what the fuck was going on in her head, too. There was nothing she could say to Bella that would scare her, or make her go all teary-eyed like Dorea started to as soon as she hesitated. “Please, don’t cry, Dorea. I’m not trying to hurt you, I just— I can’t tell you the sort of shite I can tell Bella. You— She doesn’t make me feel like a bad person for wanting to do bad things, okay?” <em>Please, please, </em>please <em>don’t ask what kind of </em>bad things <em>...</em></p><p>“You’re not a bad person, Sirius,” Dorea insisted, sniffling. “And if I’ve ever made you feel as though you are, I’m sorry, I’ve obviously failed you in some way—”</p><p>“No, you haven’t,” Aster lied. (Not about the failing her, it wasn’t Dorea’s fault she was fucked in the head, but she <em>knew</em> she was a bad person by Dorea’s definition, so yeah...)“It’s just—” <em>It’s just, you’ve made it clear that violence and hurting people and taking advantage of them are </em>bad things — <em>and I don’t disagree </em>—<em> and people who enjoy doing bad things </em>are <em>bad people </em>—<em> and I don’t disagree with </em>that<em>, either </em>—<em> so even if I try to be good, even if I </em>pretend<em> and </em>act<em> like a good person, I’m not. Not really.</em> “It doesn’t matter, if I <em>don’t</em> answer Bella, she’ll just come up to school to check on me,” she pointed out, trying desperately to change the subject.</p><p>“I believe I’ve told you not to lie to me once already tonight, Sirius.”</p><p>“Well, <em>fine</em>, then!” Aster snapped. She’d <em>tried</em>. If Dorea wanted honesty, she could have honesty. “I love you, and I can’t ever repay you for giving me a place to go that’s not <em>there</em>, with <em>them</em>, but <em>I don’t belong </em>with the Light! I’m not a good person, okay? I try, but it doesn’t come naturally to me, not like hurting people does. I see you sitting there, being all horrified and guilty because of <em>me</em>, and I <em>like </em>it.” Dorea flinched. “Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy, having the power to hurt you, twist the knife a little, like, you and Charlie and the Light in general like to talk big about unconditional love and acceptance, and how there’s nothing I could do to make you treat me like Walburga and Orion do, but you don’t know what <em>unconditional </em>even <em>means </em>— forgiving Unforgivables, in case you were wondering! Helping your mad, idiot baby cousin get her head back on straight, even if she doesn’t even pretend she doesn’t think you’re fucking evil, is also a pretty good example!</p><p>“Taking me in when I’m hurt and lost and hating the same people you hate, and you can feel good about yourself for saving me and converting me to the Light, that’s <em>easy</em>, but having to deal with me being completely fucking mad and realising that I’m not an adorable, confused little twelve-year-old anymore, trying my best to deny that I’m anything like the rest of the House? That’s a lot harder, isn’t it? If you won’t curse me, it’s not because you think I don’t deserve it, it’s just because you don’t like to think of yourself as the sort of person who would hurt a child, and <em>what if she curses me back? </em>— oh, <em>that </em>struck a nerve, didn’t it.” </p><p>It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t need an answer. She already knew it had, the way Dorea’s eyes widened just slightly, the tightness around her lips... She’d been annoyed when Aster pointed out that she and Bella (and the Family in general, really) were better at that whole <em>unconditional acceptance </em>thing than literally any light mage Aster had ever met, but now she was scared. Which was just inherently <em>funny</em>, somehow. <em>Don’t laugh, Aster...</em></p><p>“Yeah, news flash, <em>Doe</em>, I’m not a little kid anymore. Did Bella tell you I’m dangerous?” More fear, fingers twitching toward her wand... Yes. She had. Fucking bitch. <em>That wasn’t necessary, Bella! </em>“Did she tell you I <em>want </em>to hurt you? That I’ll try to do things your way, but if you push me too far, I might? I know she told you I did this for Jamie. Did she tell you that if you try to keep me away from him, I might try to kill you?” </p><p>She wouldn’t, Jamie would <em>never </em>forgive her, and she wasn’t stupid enough to think he wouldn’t find out <em>eventually</em>. She <em>had </em>tried to stab Bella with a table knife for suggesting at lunch that the best thing she could do now was find someone else to obsess over and never speak to James Potter ever again, but she had really just been making a point — it wasn’t like Bella would have actually <em>let </em>her — and she knew not to pull that sort of casual violence on people who weren’t Bella (or Narcissa, though she didn’t just let it go like Bella did). From the increasing shock and horror on Dorea’s face, Bella knew she hadn’t meant it too, and <em>hadn’t </em>gone that far with her scare tactics. Oops.</p><p>“Circe’s tits,” she muttered to herself. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Dorea, I wouldn’t. I won’t even hurt you if you don’t <em>make me</em>, but if you want me to talk to you and you won’t let me lie to you, I’m not going to feel bad about it when you <em>do </em>get hurt.” She would feel bad about not feeling bad — about thinking the idea of Dorea being afraid of her was fucking hilarious, even — but that wasn’t really the same thing.</p><p>“Somehow I...don’t find that terribly reassuring, Sirius,” Dorea said slowly, her attempt at cool confidence somewhat undermined by the tiniest quaver in her voice. Aster fought to keep from grinning as she caught it, but obviously didn’t do a very good job of it, because that unease only grew more prominent as Dorea continued. “She told me that all of this, the madness of this past month, seemed completely reasonable to you. If that’s true, I think you should be able to see how I might find it a bit difficult to put much faith in your judgement at the moment.”</p><p>“Of course it did. But Bella says that I can’t keep trying to apologise to Jamie and show him I’ll do whatever he wants to make it up to him if he’d just tell me what that fucking <em>is</em>. She thinks he’s at least as much in the wrong for shunning me over something so completely stupid as fucking Evans, especially because that heartless bitch doesn’t even <em>like </em>him...” She hesitated, hoping Dorea would give her a hint as to whether that was <em>actually </em>wrong, because James’s behaviour was generally speaking her standard for <em>right</em>, and everyone knew Bella was shite at normal people, how the hell would she know what was disproportionate for that sort of betrayal? But Dorea didn’t say anything, so Aster moved on. “And even if he weren’t, Jamie’s not de Mort and wouldn’t think that me being willing to do <em>anything </em>for him is nearly as endearing — snakey creep apparently thinks I’m just fucking precious, he’s such an arse. But making it clear that I would would actually make him very, very uncomfortable and therefore the best thing I can do for him is act like I’m not in love with him and painfully desperate for him to forgive me... Please don’t tell him, by the way,” she added, as it occurred to her that Dorea might not approve of this particular approach to wooing her son just because Bella had suggested it. “The whole point is kind of to not freak him out.”</p><p>Dorea just continued to stare at her with that same peculiar look she’d been wearing since Aster admitted that, yes, of <em>course </em>everything she’d done had seemed reasonable — did she think Aster wouldn’t have done it if it <em>hadn't?</em></p><p>“Hello? Ground control to Dorea Potter...?”</p><p>“<em>Ground </em>control...?”</p><p>“It’s from a song, not important.” Though she could, she realised, probably say shite like <em>Bowie’s totally fab</em> now, without having to put up with endless mockery. (Thinking David Bowie was sexy was apparently a thing blokes didn’t do. Despite it being an undeniable <em>fact</em>.) “You kinda checked out there for a second.”</p><p>“Oh. It’s... I’m sorry, I was just reminded I’ve a letter to write yet this evening.”</p><p>A jolt of panic shot through her chest. “You’re not going to tell Jamie, are you?”</p><p>“No. I just thought of a couple of questions earlier that I’d like to put to John.”</p><p>“...You know, if it’s something about me, you can just <em>ask me</em>. Honestly, if you want me to talk to you, the least you could do is <em>not </em>talk about me behind my back.”</p><p>“It’s nothing, Sirius. A passing fancy about something Bellatrix said.”</p><p><em>Uh...</em>huh<em>. </em>Yeah, Aster <em>totally </em>believed that. And the fact that Dorea wouldn’t tell her wasn’t making her at <em>all </em>paranoid that it was going to be something she <em>really </em>wouldn't like when she found out about it. Her mind leapt immediately to Dorea requesting that “John” find some way to keep her in hospital, where she wouldn’t be a danger to herself or anyone around her, including Jamie. (Which was ridiculous, because she would <em>never </em>hurt James. <em>Never</em>.) Not because she really thought Dorea would arrange for her to be committed against her will, she was sure she was just being paranoid, it was just the worst case scenario...but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to write Bella now and tell her to come rescue her if she ended up restrained and sedated in the depths of the long-term mental ward.</p><p>Right now, before she forgot and woke up in a hospital bed under a constant potion-drip, cursing herself for not planning ahead.</p><p>“I...guess I’ll leave you to it, then...?” she suggested, edging toward the door. </p><p>“If you like. We can continue this conversation tomorrow, when we’ve both had a chance to...catch our breath, in the wake of today’s revelations.” </p><p>Because that wasn’t the most awkward way ever to say <em>I need to think about how to address you being a dangerous fucking lunatic. </em>Aster nodded. “...Right. Sounds good. ...Sleep well,” she added lightly, as though they hadn’t just been discussing what Dorea what would likely characterise as Aster’s unhealthy obsession with her son (and as though Aster hadn’t kind of said something that could be interpreted as a threat to kill Dorea if she tried to get between them about three minutes ago...<em>oops</em>). Cruel, maybe, to throw something so incongruous at her, likely ensuring that she <em>wouldn’t </em>sleep well if she had even the slightest doubt about the likelihood of Aster turning on her, but <em>Aster</em> was going to be lying awake wondering what Dorea wanted to ask McKinnon, and why it couldn’t just wait until she saw him in person tomorrow, so. </p><p>Turnabout is fair play, and all that.</p><p>Today had been, she reflected, meandering toward her bedroom, an awfully good day before she’d had to come back to being Sirius Black...</p><p>Definitely a lateral move.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, this chapter took way longer than it should have because I forgot it was written from Dorea's POV originally, and that doesn't really work with the framing device I decided to use, so had to re-write the whole thing. Bleh. (I hate re-writing.) Also, emotional shite is hard to write.</p><p>Also, what the fuck is up with the formatting on this site adding extra spaces between italicized words and punctuation?! I hate everything.</p><p>(I'm going through fixing the formatting now, July 29th 2020. Turns out it was a weird error in the background formatting copying over from Google Docs, these things happen sometimes. —Lysandra)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Couples Therapy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aster does, in fact, still have to go talk to the mind-healer. On Bella's recommendation, James is there, too. (If someone had told Aster this was Bella's idea, she might be more willing to go along with it.)</p><p>Aster wants nothing to do with therapy, legilimency, healers, or any combination thereof. And everyone being hung up on the girl thing is super annoying.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No.”</p><p>“No?” the mind-healer repeated, as though he might have misheard Asteria. Which was <em>completely ridiculous </em>because <em>I can feel you watching me</em>. It was actually taking just about every shred of her self-control to stop herself from attacking him, because she didn’t <em>know </em>him or <em>trust </em>him, and he was <em>in her fucking head!</em></p><p>“No, absolutely not. I didn’t want to come here in the first place, but I’m definitely not going to discuss me being a fucking <em>crazy person</em>, in front of James. No.” </p><p>She’d been absolutely right about not liking whatever shite Dorea was writing “John” about last night, even if it wasn’t <em>quite </em>as bad as <em>surprise, you’re not leaving</em>. Or at least, she hoped that Jamie would help her resist being locked in the bloody loony bin, even if he was still a bit stunned about her being a girl, now. Bella was definitely going to give her shite about being all paranoid, arranging for completely unnecessary help breaking out and going on the run...or else be pleased she was being properly paranoid for once, it could really go either way. She <em>had </em>spent a significant amount of time yesterday lecturing Aster about <em>not </em>being paranoid enough about the enchantments on her clothes, after all. (... <em>No, Aster, don’t trap the mind-healer in an endless loop of shopping memories...</em>)</p><p>“Er...Sirius... You know I already know you’re a crazy person, right? You <em>did </em>try to kill Snivels two days ago...”</p><p>Asteria was doing her level best to ignore him, sitting in the chair beside her, but she couldn’t let that one pass. “I did <em>not</em>, and you know it! I was <em>trying </em>to get him <em>expelled</em>, it’s not <em>my </em>fault someone put a fucking hole in the wards and didn’t tell me because he’s being a fucking <em>child</em>—”</p><p>“You said it was okay if he died, Sirius!”</p><p>“I <em>said </em>that that would <em>work </em>— as in, it would accomplish the goal of getting rid of him! And it <em>would </em>have! And yes, sure, fine, I get that you don’t approve of murdering people, like, on principle, or whatever, even if that person is <em>Snivels</em>, but I wasn’t <em>trying </em>to kill him, so I <em>really </em>don’t think you should hold that against me! And if we’re just dragging any fucking person into this shit-show, could we find Evans and make her admit that <em>that </em>wasn’t my fault, either?”</p><p>“You fucked her on a sofa in the middle of the bloody common room, Sirius!”</p><p>“I was <em>smashed </em>and three kinds of high, and <em>she </em>came onto <em>me</em>, and so what if I did? It didn’t <em>mean </em>anything! She did it <em>specifically </em>to fuck with us because of the thing with Snivels at the end of last year!”</p><p>“That’s a load of shite, and you know it — she would <em>never</em>—”</p><p>“Have you ever actually <em>met </em>her? Fuck, mate, you’re worse than I am!”</p><p>“You <em>turned yourself into a girl!</em> How is that less insane than believing you knew <em>exactly </em>what you were doing with Lily?”</p><p>“Me being a girl now has no– <em>very little </em>to do with anything! Don’t change the subject!”</p><p>“I’m <em>not </em>changing the subject, the subject is you being a fucking <em>madman</em>, and excuse <em>me </em>if I can’t just get over my best mate turning into a girl overnight in point-two-five seconds like it’s nothing!” </p><p>Aster bit the inside of her lip to keep from grinning — <em>he admitted I’m still his best mate! </em>She <em>had </em>been thinking this was a <em>terrible </em>idea, bringing Jamie in to have it out with him in front of the mind healer like they were in fucking couples counseling or something, but he was actually <em>talking </em>to her (kind of), so maybe it wasn’t an <em>entirely </em>shite idea. If she <em>had </em>to be within twenty meters of a mind-healer, at least she’d be getting <em>that </em>out of it.</p><p><em>“Please </em>tell me this is temporary?”</p><p>She hesitated, preoccupied with trying to decide whether that thought that at least Jamie was talking to her, and therefore maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to talk to the mind-healer as well, had been influenced by him. (If she weren’t already bloody mad, having to be here would’ve done it...) “Sure, yes, it’s temporary...theoretically.”</p><p>
  <em>“Theoretically?”</em>
</p><p>“It was <em>supposed </em>to be temporary, it’s not wearing off like it’s supposed to — no, I don’t know why, and yes, I’m aware that this is why you don’t buy potions off dodgy blokes down Knockturn way!” </p><p>After some consideration, she’d decided it would be more reasonable to have taken a potion she’d bought, rather than trying to brew something herself. Much easier access, and she <em>hated </em>potion-making anyway, all fiddly and patient and having to follow the directions — <em>bleh</em>. No one would believe that she’d <em>voluntarily </em>been making a potion for herself, even if she <em>was </em>completely out of her mind. Plus, no one would expect her to know what it was or how it had been fucked up if she hadn’t done it herself. </p><p><em>Don’t you </em>dare <em>give it away, McKinnon! </em>She <em>had </em>sworn him to secrecy, to not even mention anything that he got out of her head out loud in front of Jamie or Dorea unless she also said it aloud, and obviously he and Jamie had both promised that whatever she said wouldn’t leave this room. That didn’t mean she was comfortable with it. Especially since, despite being <em>entirely too aware </em>of the mind-healer’s presence just <em>lurking </em>and <em>observing</em>, she couldn’t actually <em>pick up </em>anything from him, not even a hint of amusement or exasperation or <em>anything</em>. It was <em>fucking creepy, you hear me?!</em></p><p>“So why <em>did </em>you, then?! And why aren’t you downstairs trying to get it fixed?!”</p><p>“Because it seemed like a good idea at the time, and <em>because I feel pretty </em>— really what the fuck does it matter? It’ll wear off by itself eventually, or it won’t.” </p><p>James just blinked at her for a long moment. “You look <em>exactly </em>the same, you do know that, right?”</p><p>“I do <em>not</em> — I’m three inches shorter and my face is pointier now. And if I did, that’s even less reason for it to matter, <em>Christ!”</em></p><p>“But you’re <em>not a girl</em>, Sirius!”</p><p>“If you want me to take off my fucking pants, I will.”</p><p>“No! I don’t need to see that! I’d never be able to <em>un</em>-see it!”</p><p>“...Mate, you <em>do</em> realise that if you want to get with Evans, you are eventually going to have to see a muff, up close and personal. Kind of the whole point, really...” Aster <em>was</em>, admittedly, pretty sure that wasn’t his problem, but she had no idea what it actually <em>was</em>. <em>You could make yourself useful and give me a hint instead of just sitting there </em>watching me struggle, <em>you</em> <em>fucking creep...</em></p><p>“Not <em>that </em>you perv — you, as a girl! It’d just be... It’d make things weird!”</p><p>Oh. Fucking <em>really?</em> “Yeah, well, I’ve absolutely <em>no </em>intention to start wearing shorts to bed, so get used to the idea. If it makes you feel better, you can think of me as Sirius’s long lost twin sister Asteria.”</p><p>“You...picked a girl’s name for yourself?”</p><p>“No, it was picked for me. It’s growing on me, though.”</p><p>“Who the <em>hell </em>— Was it Bellatrix?”</p><p><em>Fuck</em>. “Was what Bellatrix?”</p><p>“The person who picked your name. Because <em>Mum </em>wouldn’t have given you a Black name, not with, well, <em>everything</em>, and—”</p><p>“It’s not a Black name. Asteria, Titaness <em>associated </em>with stars, not a star name, there’s a difference.” Of course, Asteria was her <em>second </em>name, Bella — or possibly de Mort — had decided that she should also be called Bellatrix, because it apparently wasn’t enough that they looked practically identical and were both bloody mad, <em>clearly </em>they needed to have the same name, too. (She was betting de Mort, that seemed like the sort of thing he’d think was funny. <em>What do you think? All you creepy mind mages know each other, right?)</em></p><p>“Are you dodging the question?”</p><p>“Does it matter?”</p><p>“Yes! What the <em>hell!</em> You were only gone for a <em>day!</em> And you managed to get yourself turned into a girl for who <em>knows </em>how long, <em>and </em>you’ve been hanging around Death Eaters— Didn’t you say she cursed you for insulting Lord Snakeface last time you saw her?”</p><p>“Yeah, but that was Yule. We were both a little edgy from the ritual, she didn’t mean anything by it. Besides, it was <em>months </em>ago.”</p><p>“I can’t <em>believe </em>you’re defending her!” Jamie exclaimed, sounding an <em>awful </em>lot like Dorea (who wasn’t there because she was a fucking <em>coward</em>, hadn’t had the balls to face Aster after revealing that Jamie would be here as well, just buggered off to hide in the waiting room).</p><p>“I’m not <em>defending </em>her, she’s a twisted, evil bitch. But she <em>is </em>still my cousin, and the resident expert on being a crazy person.”</p><p>“So, what, you just waltzed into her house to ask her how she deals with being a homicidal maniac?”</p><p>“De Mort’s house, actually. He actually has a house, like he’s a real person or something, in Éire. It’s fucking weird, like just, this super normal little cottage. No whips or chains or dungeons at all.” Well, aside from whatever they had stashed away in their bedroom cupboards, she guessed.</p><p>“You <em>really </em>think that’s the important thing to focus on, here?”</p><p>“Jamie, mate...I don’t think you get how weird it was. I mean, you know he doesn’t <em>actually </em>look human, right? That’s just an illusion he wears in public. So, try to imagine this fucking lizard-man drinking coffee in his sunny little pastel-decorated kitchen. Absurd, right?” Honestly, she was still having trouble not laughing at the idea, though as Bella had pointed out in response to the cave comment snakes <em>liked </em>sunning themselves, didn’t they? Why <em>wouldn’t </em>he have a nice, sunny breakfast nook? She crafted an image of de Mort lying on his dining table in the sun like that one statue of Hermaphroditus and pushed it at the mind-healer, just to see if she could get a reaction from him. He flinched, apparently not paying close enough attention to have expected that particular form of offensive. <em>Ha!</em></p><p>Jamie wasn’t nearly as amused. “Not as absurd as you just <em>going to the bloody Dark Lord’s house </em>in the first place!”</p><p>“Well, it’s not like I knew where we were going. See, I went to see if Zee knew anything about, well, <em>this</em>—” She gestured vaguely at herself. “—because, you know, if anyone knows shite about kinky sex-change potions, you’d think it would be her, and she kind of kidnapped me to talk to Bella because it was, like, two in the morning and she didn’t want to deal with me being insane in her general vicinity. And possibly waking up her husband.” Huh. She hadn’t realised earlier, but...did Zee just have blanket permissions to bring people through de Mort’s wards? That was almost as weird as de Mort having a house. “Really, if I’d known she was taking me to Bella I wouldn’t have gone, but it turns out Bella doesn’t actually hate me, and de Mort is weirdly nice when he’s not actually playing the Dark Lord for, you know, <em>people</em>, and they kind of helped me get my head back on straight, so. Doing much better now, not sure why I’m here.” </p><p>That wasn’t <em>entirely </em>true, obviously, but she’d woken up after the Dark was done with her feeling much better — at least as far as being a complete head case went (she was <em>still </em>awfully sore, otherwise, since whatever de Mort had done to her pain perception had faded) — and spending the day with Bella talking about everything that had happened since going back to school and, well, <em>how to deal with being a homicidal maniac</em>, really had helped quite a lot. Put some things in perspective. </p><p>Like if she wanted to adopt Jamie’s moral code for herself, use him as a model for the kind of person she wanted to be, that was fine — Bella thought he was a shite choice, but <em>Aster </em>thought <em>de Mort </em>was a shite choice, so she could just fuck off — but as she’d told Dorea last night, Asteria wasn’t Bella and Jamie wasn’t de Mort. She didn’t want to be completely subservient to him — which, she kind of <em>did </em>, but not if it meant having to put up with him being a fucking <em>prat </em>and doing shite like pinning the whole thing with Snivels on her without even talking to her about it first — and he wouldn’t know what to do with her if she were. (Sad, but true.) She couldn’t expect Jamie to take the lead in their relationship, make rules or even vague guidelines for her, because he didn’t know how, and she couldn’t explain it because he was a normal person and wouldn’t get it, would probably find it slightly horrifying, in fact, that she needed the basic principles of their relationship spelled out for her.</p><p>That didn’t mean that she didn’t, though. When Bella had pointed it out, like it was just the most obvious thing in the world that she’d lost it because she didn’t have any structure in her life, like rules and stuff, the first thing Aster had thought was that Bella was full of shite, because she <em>hated </em>structure and <em>rules </em>and being forced to conform to them, and she <em>knew </em>Bella did too. But, <em>apparently</em>, there were rules and then there were <em>rules </em>— she didn’t mean the thousand and one specific little rules of Society and proper comportment and shite Walburga would hex you for doing or not doing at tea — though she did think it was important to know those in order to break them in the most obviously intentional and provocative ways, because Bella wasn’t at all subtle about her rejection of petty convention — but more general things. </p><p>Things like, <em>don’t talk about family rituals with outsiders</em>, or <em>don’t tell your friends stories involving casual use of Unforgivable curses</em>. </p><p><em>Don’t involve outside authorities in resolving your problems </em>. </p><p><em>If you do something stupid, the consequences are on you. </em>(Corollary: <em>you can’t just try to pin an attempted murder and/or negligent homicide, whatever, on your best mate because it’s convenient, </em>Jamie.) </p><p>(And of course, <em>don’t talk about my sexual preferences in front of anyone else who isn’t </em>also <em>a freak, and </em>especially <em>not my godmother, what the </em>fuck<em>, Bella!)</em></p><p>Bella’s theory was Asteria didn’t know how to handle <em>not </em>having some kind of structure to rein her in or fall back on when she didn’t know what the right thing to do was in a given circumstance. </p><p>At first she’d thought she <em>must </em>be exaggerating when she pointed out, all dry and sardonic, that Asteria didn’t know how to deal with people without <em>some </em>kind of rules to follow, but no, she was right: pretty much every relationship Asteria had ever had with anyone before Hogwarts had been scripted to some degree or another, expectations exemplified in stories and outlined in explicit social conventions and Duties to the House. She knew how siblings and parents and cousins were expected and permitted to act toward each other, and how formal interactions were supposed to go between people from different Houses and so on, but those rules didn’t apply anymore to vast swaths of her life. (In fact, since she’d broken with the House, they barely applied to <em>any </em>part of her life, which Bella said was probably part of the reason she’d overreacted so badly with Jamie, and Asteria couldn’t really argue the point.) </p><p>While it was <em>fine </em>to have <em>casual </em>friendships that didn’t have rules beyond <em>no narcing </em>and <em>follow the Pranking Code</em>, more serious, actually <em>important </em>relationships, the kind she was actually <em>invested </em>in (like being in love with someone) needed more structure than that, or she would inevitably find herself getting carried away and doing things that no sane person would do or appreciate. Normal people supposedly didn’t think it was necessary to have explicit rules for how to act in relationships because they were more or less on the same page about what was excessive or overbearing or generally acceptable or not, by virtue of not being completely fucking mad...and also having normal people around to serve as examples of this shite when they were kids (as opposed to being raised in the House of Black).</p><p>So, since Jamie wasn’t going to tell her what to do, obviously she’d have to figure it out for herself. Which was <em>fine</em>, making rules for yourself was part of being an adult (or so Bella claimed). She could do that. (With Bella’s help, obviously, because <em>Asteria </em>wasn’t an adult, she didn’t have the slightest idea what she was doing here.)</p><p>First and foremost, she couldn’t keep going around making grand apologetic gestures, no matter how sorry she was. It was a little more complicated than she’d told Dorea, obviously. According to Bella (who had refused to hear any arguments on the point), her attempts to make Jamie see that she was the sorriest arse who’d ever lived were out of proportion with her offence, and Jamie didn’t understand what she was doing or why, because doing shite like trying to get Snivels expelled or turning herself into a girl only made sense to crazy people. (For any reason at all, but also especially to demonstrate her loyalty to James — apparently the connection there between reason and action wasn't nearly as obvious as she thought it was.) Bella had also gotten her to admit that Jamie’s reaction to her screwing Evans (or more accurately, getting screwed <em>by </em>Evans) was also completely disproportionate, and in <em>that </em>light <em>Jamie </em>was actually in the wrong. She really couldn’t let him treat her like that, all while acting like <em>he </em>was the wronged party. Which didn’t actually mean she had to refuse to talk to <em>him </em>or whatever other petty, passive-aggressive shite he came up with, but <em>did </em>mean that it was entirely inappropriate for her to basically be grovelling at his feet. </p><p>She <em>could </em>treat this whole thing like <em>he </em>was the one being a pathetic child and blowing things out of proportion, because while she had done exactly the same thing much more dramatically, he had started it. And if she asked Bella — which she hadn’t, but Bella had never actually waited for anyone to <em>ask </em>for advice — she <em>should</em>, because Jamie obviously didn’t want an unequal relationship, or at least not <em>that </em>unequal. If he <em>did</em>, he’d be more angry that she hadn’t asked for permission to get Snape expelled than horrified that she’d done something so extreme for him. Not that it really <em>was </em>that extreme, on a scale of such things, but, normal people. </p><p>Really, looking at it from a certain angle, <em>not </em>letting him walk all over her or trying to meet his every desire was the best thing she could do to accommodate <em>his </em>need for this to continue to seem like the friendship he’d always thought they had, at least on the surface. She couldn’t let the fact that she was in love with him adversely affect <em>his </em>life, which meant, generally speaking, not acting like she was in love at all. (And not trying to get rid of his enemies unless he specifically asked her to.)</p><p>Which, she could do that. She didn’t <em>need </em>him to know that she loved him and would do anything he asked of her. She could just <em>do it</em>, be everything he wanted, and eventually he’d realise that she was perfect for him (and Evans was a heinous, manipulative bitch) and he’d come around without ever needing to know, problem solved.</p><p>Yes, she was aware that normal people, the mind-healer (who was <em>still eavesdropping, but you’re slipping, I can feel you being uncomfortable over there </em>) included, would say that was an incredibly unhealthy relationship dynamic. <em>Bella </em>had said it was, which probably meant normal people would <em>actually </em>try to have her committed if she told <em>them —</em> <em>which you can’t, you swore an oath</em>, she reminded the healer, just in case he was thinking about it. </p><p>Bella had sworn fucking <em>fealty </em>to de Mort, literally promised to love all that he loved and shun all that he shunned, to never do anything unpleasing to him, and to follow him unto death and beyond — and if Aster knew Bella, she’d meant every fucking word, so one would think she had no room to judge. But even if Bella didn’t think it was a terrible idea for Aster to give herself over entirely to following someone else, <em>generally speaking</em>, she <em>also </em>didn’t think Jamie was right for Aster, and the idea of simply <em>acting </em>like someone’s sworn vassal without any reciprocation or even <em>acknowledgment —</em> <em>that </em>she disapproved of. (De Mort, apparently, had sworn to trust Bella’s counsel above all others, to keep no secrets from her, and to publicly acknowledge her as <em>his</em>. Aster really, <em>really </em>didn’t want to admit that their <em>understanding </em>was another one of those things she envied about Bella’s life.)</p><p>Aster didn’t care. Bella’s opinion on the matter was almost as unimportant as her own. Jamie needed her to not act like a mad, lovestruck idiot, so she wouldn’t. If he, like the Blacks, wanted some degree of resistance, the <em>semblance </em>of her <em>not </em>ultimately wanting nothing more or less than exactly what <em>he </em>wanted, she would give it to him, pretend they were equals, best mates and nothing more.</p><p>Really, she’d been doing that for <em>years. </em> </p><p>She’d probably also loved him for years, she just hadn’t realised it until he’d pushed her away like a fucking prick. And then she’d panicked and overreacted — which, yes, that was a thing she’d been known to do, shut up, Bella — because she wasn’t used to <em>feeling </em>things, not like <em>that</em>, all raw and close to the surface. But being more aware of her feelings and motivations didn’t necessarily need to change anything. After all, those feelings and motivations had always <em>been there, affecting things</em>, she just hadn’t consciously noticed them. And, well...it was only going to be weird if she made it weird. Which, she’d decided she wouldn’t, so.</p><p>Basically the rules were: act normal; <em>don’t </em>apologise unless it’s <em>definitely </em>warranted (and then only once, not all the time forever until forgiveness is granted); and if uncertain whether something would be appreciated (like getting rid of Snivels), ask first, dumbass. In fact, even if she <em>was </em>certain something would be appreciated, if it required more than a few hours of planning and effort she should probably write Dorea and ask if it was reasonable, because it probably wasn’t. </p><p><em>(See, you creepy, lurking bastard, I’ve got it sorted, I don’t need to be here! Especially if you’re not even going to </em>say <em>anything!)</em></p><p>Dorea had gotten so side-tracked about the idea of Aster talking to Bella on a regular basis that she’d never gotten around to mentioning that Bella had actually encouraged her to talk to Dorea more as well, because Dorea could give her perspective in a way Bella really couldn’t. Zee had also been suggested as someone who could potentially tell her whether normal people would approve of her following through on whatever she was thinking was the <em>best idea ever</em>, but Zee wasn’t really a normal person herself. (If she were, she would never have <em>wanted </em>to befriend Bella, let alone have been able to.) If she were to ask Zee for advice, she’d <em>probably </em>tell Aster exactly why normal people would be horrified by whatever she was planning to do, and then help her carry it out, much as she had with the whole <em>becoming a girl </em>thing.</p><p>Obviously it would be preferable if she had her own Zee-like friend who could explain normal people being completely inexplicable and stop her from doing anything <em>too </em>insane. Unfortunately, the only halfway normal, truly cold-blooded, manipulative bitch she knew was <em>Evans</em>, and they were kind of mortal enemies at the moment. Cissy <em>might </em>be an option, but she hated Aster more than Aster hated Evans. (Which, yes, was saying quite a lot.)</p><p>Jamie was obviously the <em>best </em>option, but he was <em>considerably </em>less Zee-like than Evans, and couldn’t possibly be expected to figure her out for himself. She suspected that Bella had mentioned to Dorea (somewhere in the midst of informing her that Aster was a dangerous madwoman who should be treated with a degree of caution, or whatever) that it might be a good idea to fill him in on the situation, and given that Dorea was hardly comfortable with Aster at the moment herself, it wasn’t exactly surprising that she would’ve delegated that task to the professional in the room. She just...didn’t think she needed to be there to talk in front of Jamie about her being crazy specifically. Couldn’t he just, she didn’t know, explain that <em>generally </em>speaking, mad people do mad shite, and maybe Jamie should keep an eye out for that and say something to her if he caught her about to do something she really<em>, really </em>shouldn’t?</p><p>“Do you even hear yourself when you talk, Sirius?” Jamie demanded. “Because you just said <em>Bellatrix </em>and <em>de Mort </em>helped you get your head back on straight. If <em>they’re </em>your measure for sanity, I’d be shocked if you don’t murder us all in our sleep.”</p><p>Okay, <em>that </em>hurt. She glared at him. “Well, I guess <em>that’s </em>why I’m here, then. Because Dorea’s just as worried that I’ll murder you as you are. And because I don’t mind being a girl — apparently that’s grounds for insanity right there.”</p><p>“Let’s talk a bit more about that, Asteria,” McKinnon said calmly. He and Bella were the only people who’d really called her that so far, it still kind of struck her as weird. De Mort probably would have as well, but he’d still been sleeping when she and Bella had left his weirdly normal little cottage, so. None of the Potters had, which was fine, they were used to thinking of her as Sirius. It was <em>much </em>more irritating that they kept acting like her being a girl was a terrible mistake that needed to be reversed immediately.</p><p>“What is there to talk about?” <em>Can’t you just tell them I really don’t care about being a girl and have done with it?</em></p><p>“How long have you considered yourself to be a girl?” McKinnon suggested, completely ignoring her silent question.</p><p>“Shite, what time is it? Thirty-six hours, maybe? Or, I guess I woke up and realised I was <em>still </em>a girl about this time yesterday, so.”</p><p>A smile twitched at McKinnon’s lips, more noticeable in his moustache than his mouth, really. </p><p>The mind-healer didn’t really <em>look </em>like a creep, somehow managing to avoid that too-understanding, too-helpful vibe ward attendants and family healers often had (which always made her <em>instantly </em>suspicious of their motives), without straying into the brusque dismissiveness that was the emergency cursebreaker end of the spectrum. Of course, it was suspicious in its own way that he would so perfectly manage to hit the <em>competent, confident, and personable, but also firm and not obviously deliberately attempting to establish some degree of rapport </em>mark, but that was probably just Aster being paranoid. She really couldn’t hold him having a <em>decent </em>bedside manner against him, no matter how fucking weird it might be. (She might be <em>particularly </em>prejudiced against mind-healers, but she tended not to like healers in general. Madam Pomfrey in particular had a way of getting under her skin, all <em>nice </em>and <em>soft </em>and <em>mumsy </em>and overly concerned about how many scars Sirius had had before coming to school.)</p><p>McKinnon was, she thought, about the same age as Dumbledore, but more the <em>actively supervising mastery healing students, come in and talk during my office hours that’s what they’re there for </em>type than the wise old professor up in his tower doing whatever the hell Dumbledore did all day, which was honestly what she’d expected when she was told he was the Chief Mind-Healer and a contemporary of Dorea’s father. He was clean-shaven, aside from his very muggle-looking moustache, which was, like his hair, trimmed neatly and short — typical for a healer, as were the short sleeved tunic-and-trousers style robes he was wearing. A beard like Dumbledore’s would just get in the way if he was dealing with an emergency. Not that she thought mind-healers really did a lot of emergency healing, but it was still the style for practically everyone at the Hospital. </p><p>McKinnon was going a bit grey around the edges, and the lines around his eyes suggested he spent a lot of time frowning empathically rather than giving people patronising, 'grandfatherly' smiles or scowling at them like Aster’s Head of House, who was the closest thing she’d ever had to an <em>actual </em>grandfather (both Castor and Pollux had died before she was born). According to Dorea, McKinnon had known <em>her </em>father, who was born at the turn of the century and had died back in Grindelwald’s war, but looking at him she’d put his age closer to ninety than seventy. Uncle Draco had been a Black Cloak, which meant he was a mind mage as well, which meant McKinnon could easily have been one of his teachers or mentors back in the twenties, though it wouldn’t be entirely odd if they’d simply met through social contacts either. </p><p>De Mort, on the other hand, didn’t exactly move in the same circles as the McKinnons. (He wasn’t <em>nearly </em>respectable enough to rub shoulders with <em>light </em>nobility, even with Bella at his side.) She was fairly certain that de Mort wasn’t actually French (or even a Breton), so it wasn’t <em>so </em>weird that he’d have run into one of the most highly-respected mind mages in Britain at <em>some </em>point, but Bella had kind of suggested they actually <em>knew </em>each other, and she didn’t imagine de Mort spent much time around hospitals, either. It would make much more sense if McKinnon had <em>also </em>been one of de Mort’s teachers at some point, which... Surely the bloody Dark Lord hadn’t once been planning on becoming a <em>healer?</em> That’d just be fucking <em>weird</em>.</p><p>Or, wait... Had someone actually made <em>de Mort </em>talk to a mind healer when he was a kid? If they had, she pitied the poor bastard who’d had to get in <em>his </em>head...especially since she was pretty sure he was a better legilimens than McKinnon. She never noticed de Mort reading her mind, but she could feel McKinnon in her head like an itch she wasn’t allowed to scratch — <em>don’t flip and push him out Aster, deep breaths </em>— even though he didn’t respond to things she thought at him like de Mort did. Maybe he was just being obvious because it was more polite? <em>If that’s the case, I’d prefer you weren’t</em>... (No response, of course.)</p><p>Whatever. She was still pretty sure mind healers tended to be normal people who didn’t want to see memories of de Mort torturing people or whatever even if it was their job. The fact that McKinnon pulled back a little to avoid getting too close to the memory of de Mort cutting on Bella when she and Zee had arrived at his place, the first memory that occurred when thinking about Snakeface being a sadistic bastard, only reinforced that impression. (Which didn’t mean she should keep thinking about similarly sick shite so he’d get the fuck out. No matter how tempting it was.)</p><p>“So, there was no long-held desire to become female underlying this decision?” McKinnon said, ignoring her continued low-key freak-out over having to let him legilimise her.</p><p>Right. Focus on something else. She could do that. </p><p>Honestly, she wasn’t sure what the big deal was. She (as Sirius) and Narcissa had been raised practically identically, albeit with slightly different roles they were expected to play in certain social situations like dancing and shite. She knew there were more differences in other Houses, even among the Dark, with families like the Yaxleys and Greengrasses sort of letting their children specialise in dealing with domestic management-type issues or external relationships — business and politics — or academics or battlemagic or whatever, instead of expecting <em>everyone </em>to learn <em>everything</em>. But as far as she knew, it wasn’t as though <em>all girls have to focus on Wizengamot politics and academics </em>and <em>all boys have to focus on battlemagic and strategy and maintaining relationships with client Houses</em>. Those just happened to be the areas that Opal and Onyx Yaxley (respectively) had the most talent for. </p><p><em>Light </em>Houses pretty obviously had a thing about girls being pretty and delicate and boys being tougher and more violent, more of a <em>chivalrous knights and virtuous ladies </em>aesthetic, but obviously that wasn’t some sort of <em>inherent </em>difference between the sexes. Narcissa was just as ruthless a fighter as Sirius — and arguably a better duelist, though Aster was sure they’d be more evenly matched now she wasn’t fighting her own magic to cast any half-decent dueling spells — and Sirius had been just as pretty as she was, and could, if necessary, act as well-mannered. For that matter, Narcissa could be just as crass and savage as anyone <em>privately</em>, she’d just taken their lessons on <em>how to present yourselves in public </em>a little too much to heart, and was in a position to lose the Family's approval if she didn't.</p><p>Being a girl didn’t really feel that different from being a boy. There was a little more sway in her walk, and she found herself sitting a little differently, but other than that? </p><p>She <em>was </em>generally happier than she’d been for a while, but she was pretty sure that was because she’d been forcibly ejected from her funk and had had three actual meals in two days now. (She always forgot how dull and flat life became when she didn’t eat for too long, regardless of whether she was otherwise <em>down.</em>) The challenge of having to deal with everyone freaking out over her being a girl and/or insane probably also helped. Gave her something to focus on other than lying around moping like a little bitch.</p><p>“Nope, did it on a lark.”</p><p>“So <em>why </em>aren’t you trying to get it fixed?” Jamie asked, as though she obviously <em>should </em>want to.</p><p>“...Because it’s not really important?”</p><p>“Yes, it is!”</p><p>“Why? You said it yourself, I look exactly the same, and it’s not like my personality changed — you and Pete and Walters have been calling me a girl since we were <em>eleven</em>.” It really wasn’t <em>her </em>fault they didn’t understand the importance of appearances and presentation, or that a certain degree of (overly) dramatic flamboyance was accepted and even expected from pretty much the entire House of Black. Reggie was just as bad, really, slinking around playing himself up as <em>cool </em>and <em>edgy </em>and <em>untouchably snobbish </em>as opposed to, you know, cool and edgy and <em>actually enjoying life </em>— she was <em>pretty sure </em>he’d worn a fucking <em>cravat </em>on the train back to school this year. Her spending a few hours figuring out how to make her hair look like Jimmy Page’s was nowhere near <em>that </em>ridiculous.</p><p>“Yes, but not <em>actually a girl</em>, you git!”</p><p>“Well, I don’t care. If it wears off, fine; if it doesn’t, also fine. I’ve been informed I have more important problems to worry about than whether or not all my robes and trousers are too long. Though, for the record, I’m not mad at the moment.”</p><p>Another smile twitched at the moustache. “I believe the concern is more that you won’t <em>remain </em>in your current mental state, than that you may still be...less balanced than you believe yourself to be.”</p><p>“Dorea definitely still thinks I’m mad, but it’s <em>fine</em>, I talked to Bella, I’ve got it under control.” If the mind-healer had been paying attention, <em>you should know that</em>.</p><p>“Oh, yeah, because Bellatrix is definitely the last word on <em>sanity</em>!”</p><p>“You do realise why it might be less than reassuring to claim that your cousin has been advising you on this particular issue?” </p><p><em>Not really, no</em>, she thought defiantly, only half lying. Bella really <em>did </em>know what she was talking about. <em>Yes</em>, she was insane, did mad shite all the time, but she <em>chose </em>to do mad shite. The <em>insane </em>part was that she was a fucking psycho and didn’t care about the people who would inevitably be hurt when she did things like <em>starting a fucking war</em>. As far as Aster could tell, she had the Madness pretty much under control.</p><p>“Humour me, here, let’s discuss what happened over the course of the last month.”</p><p>Aster felt her eyes narrow. <em>You </em>really <em>think Jamie wants to know me losing it was his fault? No. </em>That ran <em>directly </em>counter to the whole idea of <em>acting normal </em>and not making her being in love with him a big deal. “I’m not talking about be being a fucking crazy person with Jamie here.”</p><p>“But, Pads—”</p><p><em>“No</em>. All you need to know is if I’m <em>literally begging </em>you to listen to me, I actually need you to listen. That is <em>literally </em>the only difference between me trying to get rid of Snape and <em>dozens </em>of other pranks I’ve suggested in the past five years — you telling me no, that’s a terrible idea, we’re not doing that, tone it down by like half.” Honestly, it wasn’t like she’d <em>suddenly gone insane</em>, she’d <em>never </em>had a very good grasp of how far was too far.</p><p>“That is <em>not </em>the only difference,” Jamie said, sounding <em>awfully </em>defensive to believe what he was saying. “Even if you didn’t really want him <em>dead</em>, getting someone expelled is <em>way </em>more over the line than <em>anything </em>else you’ve ever wanted to try!”</p><p>Well, <em>yes</em>, because it was kind of a game-ending move, and much as she didn’t <em>like </em>Snape or Evans, she would at least admit that they made life at Hogwarts way more interesting than it otherwise would be. If she was honest, she really didn’t want Snape <em>expelled</em>, even. The only person she’d have to pick fights with when she was bored would be Cissy, and <em>that </em>was a <em>terrible </em>idea, because their feud had <em>long </em>since passed the point that anyone outside the House would think was reasonable. Severe and lingering bodily harm was <em>definitely </em>on the table, and Cissy was a devious, cutthroat bitch, so, yeah, bad idea. </p><p>Doing anything that could end the game with Snape and Evans was a major escalation, and not something that Aster would have done if Evans hadn’t <em>deliberately </em>tried to <em>destroy </em>her relationship with Jamie. That was below the fucking belt. <em>Literally </em>— crawling into Sirius’s lap and telling him James didn’t own either of them (which was a dirty fucking lie) and smiling like <em>let’s set your life on fire and watch it burn</em>, and <em>biting </em>him— “Evans started it.”</p><p><em>“You </em>started it when you decided it was okay to fuck her!”</p><p>Aster groaned, letting herself slouch further into her chair, because they were back to <em>this</em>, <em>again</em>. </p><p>This whole <em>talking </em>thing was going to be tedious and <em>terrible</em>, she could already tell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. I'm not *ill*</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aster goes back to Hogwarts and susses out the cover story James and Peter gave them about the whole trying-to-kill-Snape thing. She continues to be female, which is inexplicably still worthy of comment.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was after dinner by the time they Floo’d back to Hogwarts, and even later by the time Dumbledore finished lecturing Asteria about <em>not </em>being a crazy person in his school, if you please, there will be <em>consequences </em>if you fuck up again, blah, blah, blah. He didn’t say anything about her suddenly becoming a girl. Aster wasn’t sure whether he hadn’t noticed — he’d been sitting down when she walked in, that could make it hard to judge other people’s height, and he was about a foot taller than her anyway so he might not see much difference — or whether he didn’t care. It <em>really </em>could go either way. </p><p>By the time she got back up to the dorm, everyone was getting ready for bed. Fucking fine with her, she’d had <em>more </em>than enough awkward, tedious, <em>circular </em>conversations for the day. She figured James had filled them all in on <em>some </em>version of what had happened and why she hadn’t been around for the past couple days, because everyone was looking at her with various degrees of fear and scorn — except for Remus, who just looked <em>completely betrayed </em>because she and James had almost accidentally turned him into a murder weapon, or if James had stuck to his story because <em>she </em>had actually <em>tried </em>to make him kill Snape — and no one really tried to talk to her, or said much of anything at all. </p><p>Well, until she stripped for bed, throwing her robes and shorts over her desk chair as she had <em>literally every night </em>for the last <em>five years</em>. <em>Then </em>they started muttering to each other. She ignored them for a few seconds, fiddling with her alarm charm, until Pete said, “Er...Sirius, mate...is there...something you’d like to tell us about?”</p><p>Whereupon she turned to see that everyone else was staring at her. Well, except James, who was flushed and refusing to look at her. She looked down at herself, then back up at them, and after a long beat of silence said, “Potions accident,” in a firm tone which did <em>not </em>invite further questions. </p><p>She yanked her curtains open and flopped onto her bed before one of them could work up the nerve to make her have the <em>gods and Powers, what the </em>fuck <em>is the big deal, why is me being a girl a problem </em>conversation <em>again</em>. (McKinnon and Jamie hadn’t managed to give her a reasonable explanation of that point at any time in the <em>two and a half hours </em>they’d talked in circles around it.) Before she managed to yank them closed, though, Pete managed to ask, “Are you serious?”</p><p>And then she couldn’t resist a <em>very </em>acerbic, “No, I’m Asteria, now,” which kind of cursed the plan of avoiding talking to them in the foot.</p><p>“Is this— James said you had some kind of breakdown, but— You turned yourself into a girl?” Teague said, sounding <em>completely </em>baffled.</p><p>“What does that have to do with trying to kill Snape?” Remus asked. </p><p>Called it. Though if they were talking about it in front of the other boys, Jamie and Pete must have told them something other than that Snivels had almost been eaten by Moony. “Pretty much nothing.”</p><p>“You’re not...” Pete began, but trailed off to just stare in mute shock.</p><p>“You’re not going to be a girl, like, <em>forever</em>, are you?” Gudgeon asked, picking up where he left off.</p><p>“...Maybe.”</p><p>“But...”</p><p>“But <em>what</em>, Walters? Have <em>none </em>of you ever seen a naked girl before? Well, ta <em>fucking </em>da, not really a big deal.”</p><p>“We’ve <em>seen </em>girls before, Siri,” Pete said. “Well, everyone but Jamie and Remus, but—”</p><p>“Hey!” James snapped, as though he’d ever seen a girl outside of the quidditch locker room, which <em>so </em>didn’t count — Rolanda had left school after their second year, and Felicia and Meredith had never given Jamie so much as the time of day.</p><p>“—we’re...worried about you. What the fuck were you thinking, you mad cunt?”</p><p>“ <em>Language</em>, Pettigrew! There’s a lady present!” Leach sniggered. Well, at least <em>one </em>of his dorm mates didn’t have his head so far up his arse he couldn’t at <em>least </em>make a joke.</p><p>Even if it wasn’t a very good one. “Yeah, keep that up, Aggie over there might faint.” </p><p>Leach flipped her off. Good on him. One for seven treating this with all the fanfare it deserved. “When is Black <em>not </em>doing something mad? You lot can sit around talking it over like a bunch of girls yourselves, but we <em>do </em>have McGee’s exam in the morning, so I’m for bed. Keep it down, yeah?”</p><p>“Can’t you just...change back?” Teague asked. </p><p>“If he could, do you think he’d still be a girl?” Gudgeon.</p><p>“Well, it <em>is </em>Black, he’s always been a bit of a girl...” Walters. “Get sick of being buggered, or what?” Arse.</p><p>“Seriously, why aren’t you at Saint Mungo’s or something?” Pete.</p><p>“Well, you see, I’m not <em>ill</em>, I’m <em>female</em> — there’s a difference.”</p><p>“You’re awfully quiet over there, Potter. Nothing to say about your boyfriend suddenly turning into a girl?”</p><p>“Oh, fuck off, Walters,” James said, but Aster wasn’t even looking at him and he <em>sounded </em>embarrassed.</p><p>“Yeah, you know how Jamie is about cocks, I’m <em>way </em>more fanciable, now.” She even sat up so she could toss her hair over one shoulder and give Walters a flirtatious <em>smoulder</em>. Walters actually went red. <em>Tee hee</em>.</p><p>
  <em>“Fuck off, Black!”</em>
</p><p>“You <em>do </em>realise you’re naked, right?”</p><p>She had, in fact. She’d never made it all the way under the covers, and was actually slightly cold. “What does that have to do with anything Teague?”</p><p>“Well, you’re just, you know, <em>sitting there</em>, well, <em>in the open</em>, and—”</p><p>“What Ashley means, Black, is have some modesty.”</p><p>Aster rolled her eyes at Gudgeon. “When have I <em>ever </em>had modesty?”</p><p>“Well, <em>yeah</em>, but you can’t just sit there being all naked and...flirty. It’s bloody <em>weird</em>.”</p><p>“I sit around naked making passes at Walters literally all the time, Davey.” Mostly because it made him even more uncomfortable than Jamie, the idea of fucking a boy.</p><p>“Can we focus on the trying to kill Snape, thing?” Remus interrupted, pouring ice water all over Aster’s improving mood. (Making her roommates vaguely uncomfortable might’ve been childish, but it was always funny.)</p><p>“That depends,” she said slowly, rather at a loss because she didn’t know what story they’d given the others. “What am I supposed to have done, exactly?”</p><p>“How do you forget luring someone into an acromantula colony? Did that potion take your brain as well as your cock?”</p><p><em>Ah, thank you, Walters</em>. “Even if it had, I’d still be cleverer than you. It’s not <em>my </em>fault Snivels decided to follow me out into the Forest.”</p><p>“I thought you said he set him up to meet you out there, Pete,” Gudgeon interrupted.</p><p>“We did, we were supposed to just get him out of bounds and then tell McGee or someone, but Sirius actually showed up and led him off <em>way </em>further away and ditched him — he was about to be eaten when James caught up with him,” Pete said, covering her little lapse. </p><p>“Just being out of bounds wouldn’t have been enough to get him expelled,” Aster said, trying <em>very </em>hard to sound at least a <em>little </em>repentant. “I wanted it to look like he was trying to get acromantula venom for a potion or something. I planted a vial on him, so when he got back, we could accuse him of fucking about with restricted shite <em>as well as </em>being out of bounds.” There weren’t any legal potions that used that particular ingredient, she didn’t think. “I didn’t think he’d get so turned around he’d actually wander into the Colony!” </p><p><em>I wanted him to get caught trying to get into a restricted area, Moony, I didn’t think he actually </em>would<em>. </em>Remus got it, she thought. He at least looked slightly conflicted, now, instead of <em>completely betrayed</em>.</p><p>“I wasn’t actually trying to put him in real danger—” she added, just in case he hadn’t.</p><p>“Pete said you said you didn’t care if he died!” Remus snapped, apparently not quite ready to forgive her.</p><p>“Yeah, well, I don’t. Would <em>you</em>, if we weren’t implicated? I mean, really. So tragic, Snivellus going out of his way to put himself in a dangerous situation for a shite reason — whether because he thought he was going to get me in trouble, or because he really was trying to get acromantula venom — it’d be his own fucking fault if he <em>did </em>die, and no, I wouldn’t be crying at his funeral.”</p><p>Remy’s glare only grew sharper. “They would have <em>exterminated the Colony</em>, Sirius!”</p><p>“Why would anyone care?” Gudgeon asked, giving Remus a look that said he was being a fucking weirdo, giving a shite about giant, man-eating spiders.</p><p>“They <em>are </em>sapient beings, Dave. At least, if the standards are applied evenly, regardless of whether they present a danger to humans. I mean, <em>humans </em>kill each other all the time.” Now he was giving <em>her </em>a weird look, but Aster didn’t really care. That statement applied just as much to werewolves as it did to acromantulae. “And I...didn’t really consider that,” she admitted. </p><p>That she didn’t have to <em>try </em>to sound like she felt bad about. She really had been thinking that since <em>Moony </em>was exactly where he was supposed to be everyone would see it was <em>obviously </em>all Snivels’s fault. She’d realised since...some point talking to Bella, telling her about what, exactly, had happened, that yeah, the law would have held Remus responsible, despite the fact that he really, <em>really </em>wasn’t, not under any reasonable interpretation of events, because they were written by prejudiced light <em>bastards </em>who thought any excuse to execute a werewolf was a good excuse. But she hadn’t thought of that at the time, because it was just <em>so </em>stupid. And she <em>wished </em>she could tell Remus she was sorry, but she couldn’t, not now, with Gudgeon and Teague and Walters still listening in.</p><p>Gudgeon eventually decided to fill the silence that fell over them by saying, “They <em>eat people </em>Black.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Acromantulae. They’re <em>creatures</em> because they <em>eat people</em>. They don’t just defend their territory or whatever...”</p><p>A grin tugged at her lips as she tried to resist saying the first thing that came to mind, but then decided it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like James didn’t already know she’d been hanging out with Bella all weekend anyway. Making a few dark jokes wouldn’t make him think worse of her than <em>that</em>. </p><p>“What, your family doesn’t have long pork at Yule?” Gudgeon and Teague exchanged a look as though they couldn’t tell if that had been a joke, even as James snapped his curtains closed around himself, and Remus shook his head with an expression of disgust. “Oh, come off it, you prats, if I were a cannibal, I wouldn’t <em>tell </em>you!” Apparently that didn’t really clarify the situation. (As it shouldn’t — she’d never told them about the Blacks’ actual Yule ritual, after all...) She giggled at their confusion and discomfort.</p><p>“Unless you knew we wouldn’t believe you,” Pete pointed out.</p><p>“I’ve been trying to come up with a line about Black having a fondness for long pork <em>sausage</em>, or something, but I’m too tired, and it’s just not as funny for some reason when you’re a girl,” Walters admitted, throwing himself onto his own bed. </p><p>“Because you’d like to give me a taste of <em>your </em>sausage, perhaps?”</p><p>“Piss. Off.”</p><p>She smirked as he closed his curtains as well. That was <em>definitely </em>a <em>yes</em>. </p><p>“If you don’t stop making passes at him and Jamie, they’re going to be all conflicted when you change back,” Remus said, apparently willing to let her off the hook for almost getting him executed as a dangerous creature, at least for the moment. He’d probably want to have it out again later, in private, somewhere he could rail at her without people overhearing about Moony. </p><p>But that was later. “Maybe I won’t,” she suggested. Might as well start getting them used to the idea, since she really wasn’t planning on it. Having her body forced into a new shape from her fundamental identity <em>up</em> had <em>really fucking hurt</em>. And she <em>had </em>been arguing with everyone for the past two days now about whether she was really fine with staying this way. Fuckers thought they could tell her how she felt because it was how <em>they </em>would feel? Well, they could suck the dick she no longer had. She was female, and she was staying that way. “I’m gonna turn in, being a girl is exhausting.”</p><p>“Sure it’s not being a fucking madman that’s exhausting?” Remus asked, but she was pretty sure he was being rhetorical, she could be nice and let him have the last word.</p><p>Except, well...then she wouldn’t be able to call out, “Night, boys,” in a purposefully high, extra girly tone and snigger to herself as they grumbled uncomfortably back at her.</p><p>They’d get over it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Entirely Unwarranted Banishment of Asteria Black</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>McG and the Boys stage an intervention of sorts.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They hadn’t gotten over it.</p><p>Reactions to Aster’s sudden femininity among the faculty had been mixed, ranging from vaguely amused acceptance (Flitwick had started calling her Miss Black immediately) to McGonagall flatly refusing to refer to her as <em>Miss </em>Black to Binns mistaking her for Bellatrix and getting confused about the year — no one noticed until he started talking about the upcoming eleven-hundredth anniversary of Hogwarts’s establishment, which was eight years ago.</p><p>Narcissa had been furious — she’d cornered Asteria in an abandoned classroom to bitch her out, because apparently she thought Aster had done this to purposefully fuck up her last year here. Which, she wasn’t aware of any way in which her being female had any impact on Cissy at all, except maybe by her being competition for the title of prettiest girl at Hogwarts. Whatever. She’d overheard her telling one of the other bitches in her year to “Ignore my cousin, you know how he is. He’s just trying to get everyone’s attention, this is obviously some sort of <em>stunt</em>.” (Which was probably the best outcome she could have hoped for.)</p><p>Reggie had run into Aster apparently accidentally in the Great Hall at breakfast a few days after she had returned to the school. “Watch where you’re going, Siri-” He’d cut himself off as he realised he was slightly taller than Asteria, blinking down at her in surprise before leaning a little closer to get a better look at her face. “So... How long have you been impersonating Bella? Does she know?”</p><p>“Four days, and <em>yes</em>, of <em>course </em>she knows. Who the hell <em>else </em>would have turned me into a girl just because I asked?”</p><p>“Good point. And...why did you want to be a girl?”</p><p>She pouted up at him. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”</p><p>“So, you were mad and thought a sex change would be a good encore for attempted murder?”</p><p>“I didn’t try to kill that greasy git! If I were trying to kill him, he’d be dead and you know it.”</p><p>Reggie smirked. “Yeah, okay, <em>Trixie</em>. Just out of curiosity, how permanent is this?”</p><p>“How permanent is <em>the ever-loving Dark decided to punish me by showing up and rewriting my fundamental identity as painfully as possible?”</em></p><p>Her little brother’s eyes went wide. “Does Mother know?”</p><p>“I’m sure Narcissa’s mentioned it to her by now.”</p><p>“...I have to go. I have an urgent letter to write.” He’d scuttled off before Aster could tell him to tell Walburga that becoming a girl didn’t really change anything, she was still staying with Dorea, and the House of Black could go fuck itself.</p><p>Most of the students in their year had just written it off as Sirius being Sirius. About half of the people she used to snog and/or screw in disused broom cupboards on a fairly regular basis were <em>very </em>disturbed and <em>very </em>disinterested in continuing to snog and/or screw, but fuck them (or not, whatever). There were <em>plenty </em>of other people around who now found her far <em>more </em>fanciable (including half her roommates).</p><p>Cassie Lovegood, the first time they ran into each other afterward, <em>immediately </em>told her she still didn’t have even the slightest shadow of a chance, because of course she did, but she <em>had </em>agreed to show Aster some of the light battlemagic she’d been making a point to pick up here and there for <em>years </em>— now that Aster’s magic was properly aligned, she wouldn’t be fighting herself to cast that sort of shite (or hurting herself casting dark magic), she thought she might actually stand a chance to trounce Cissy in the inter-house dueling competition in the spring.</p><p>Snape was obviously keeping his distance from Asteria, probably plotting some sort of revenge for the attempted expulsion plot (which would probably be completely disproportionate, because there was no way he would believe she hadn’t actually been trying to kill him). And Evans hadn’t acted like she noticed at all. She obviously <em>had</em>, it would be impossible to miss the rumours and the boys being all awkward about everything, and she <em>had </em>actually <em>spoken </em>to her, taking five points from her for being <em>barely </em>ten minutes past curfew getting back to the Tower the day after she came back to school — fucking petty tyrant, McG was crazier than Aster, making <em>Evans </em>a prefect! She <em>had </em>reverted to calling Aster "Black" rather than "Sirius", but that might have just been because she refused to be familiar with someone who almost accidentally got her best mate slaughtered or turned into a werewolf a few days before.</p><p>But the boys...</p><p>Her roommates hadn’t gotten over it <em>at all</em>, her being a girl. </p><p>Well, okay, Remus, after he’d finished shouting at her under privacy palings about almost getting both Snivels <em>and Moony </em>killed, was reasonably okay with it. Clearly thought it was a little weird, admitted it even, but he also admitted that Sirius had always been a little weird. Out of all the mad shite she <em>could </em>be doing, becoming a girl really didn’t seem that bad. He was even trying to remember to call her Asteria, though he did slip up fairly regularly, getting all defensive about it like, “You still look practically the same, okay?” as though she actually minded. It wasn’t like she wasn’t going to realise who he was talking to. And Pete was Pete. Once he got over the initial shock, he was willing to play along, if in a slightly patronising, <em>yes, okay, but I </em>am <em>just playing along and humouring you </em>sort of way. (Prick.)</p><p>Jamie, though, was still apparently in denial, hoping the 'potions accident' would wear off eventually, and Aster could go back to being his best mate Sirius, because <em>apparently </em>being two inches taller than her and hearing other people referring to her as a girl (which he, like McGonagall, refused to do) made a huge fucking difference in their relationship dynamic. It was <em>really fucking annoying</em>, because Aster was <em>pretty fucking sure </em>she hadn’t changed much at all — see Remy still calling her Sirius when he <em>forgot </em>she was a girl now, because there was <em>no real difference!</em> If he’d just stop acting like it was a big fucking deal, it wouldn’t be one!</p><p>(And it hurt like fucking <em>hell</em>, because while she’d anticipated a bad reaction if she told him she’d done it <em>for him</em>, and knew that it was entirely possible he wouldn’t fancy her <em>just </em>because she now had the right bits — likely, even, given that he was obviously still hung up on his imaginary version of Lily fucking Evans — she <em>really </em>hadn’t expected him to have <em>such </em>a problem with just <em>continuing to be mates</em>, and she had <em>no fucking idea </em>what to do about it!)</p><p>Leach didn’t really give a flying fuck about any of the rest of them, he spent most of his time with the Ravenclaws anyway. Gudgeon and Teague were mostly just kind of awkward and clearly uncomfortable with her the way they were around <em>most </em>girls, really (despite her having bloody well <em>lived with them </em>for <em>five fucking years</em>). If she kept her bloody shorts on, there was no appreciable difference in her appearance. Honestly, she’d expect them to be <em>more </em>comfortable with her now, because they’d <em>also </em>been kind of weird about her just <em>you know, standing around...</em>dangling <em>like that! </em>at first. (Gudgeon was muggleborn, the first argument in their room had been based around whether or not it was <em>bloody weird, okay </em>for Sirius not to wear shorts to bed. Teague was just self conscious and had always envied Sirius's awareness that he had <em>absolutely nothing </em>to be ashamed about, physically speaking — she might be completely fucked in the head, but she was pretty as hell, and she knew it.)</p><p>But Walters was <em>definitely </em>harbouring a fancy for her, and was equally obviously uncomfortable about it. And yes, she knew she wasn’t helping, teasing him very much the same way she always had — it was even funnier now that it made him all horny and conflicted instead of just irritated and vaguely repulsed. But she really didn’t think she’d been <em>that </em>annoying about it. Certainly not enough to justify him running off crying to McGonagall and asking her to kick Aster out of their room.</p><p>But he <em>obviously had</em>, because McG held them over after Transfiguration on Aster’s second Friday as a girl, just her and the boys, and had just gone on a long-arse fucking rant about the reasons dormitories were segregated by sex, and “there have been some complaints regarding...inappropriate behaviour” and “Therefore you have been reassigned to the sixth-year girls’ dormitory, effective immediately.”</p><p>“Could you repeat that, Minnie?” She looked around at the seven boys sitting in a rough arc with her, chairs turned a bit so they could all see each other, and McG at the front of the room. Not one of them seemed willing to meet her eyes. Cowardly <em>fucking</em>... “Because I’m pretty sure I just heard you say that the blokes I’ve lived with for <em>five fucking years </em>have just decided to exile me over...what? harassing Walters? I’ve been doing that since our second week of classes, you fucking prick! If you had such a problem with it, you could’ve actually <em>said </em>something instead of just running off to have a shame-wank every time I bat my eyelashes at you!”</p><p>“Language, Mister Black!”</p><p>“It wasn’t just <em>me</em>, Black! You’re making all of us uncomfortable, and it’s pretty fucking obvious by now, whatever you did, it’s not wearing off — you should be in the girls’ room!”</p><p>“Yes, you’ll be happier with your own kind,” Leach added sarcastically. “You’re not making <em>all </em>of us uncomfortable. Or at least, no more than you always have. I voted to exile you because I’m tired of being woken up at four in the morning because you’ve lost your tie or some such nonsense. Professor, do I really need to be here for this?”</p><p>“Thank you, Augustus, I appreciate that, and I commend your honesty. Though, it was a shoe I was looking for today. I was going to be considerate and go be awake elsewhere, but people tend to think it’s a bit odd when I wander the halls in the middle of the night with <em>only one shoe</em>. And no, you may be excused.”</p><p>McGonagall seconded that with a nod, giving Aster the evil eye for usurping her authority to dismiss people from... What even was this? some sort of sentencing presentation? trying to show a unified front?</p><p>
  <em>Bull. Fucking. Shite.</em>
</p><p>“As opposed to every other moment in your life,” Gudgeon muttered, before Minnie could actually <em>say </em>something.</p><p>“We’ve been over this, you twat! I’m not <em>especially </em>odd, you’re just repressed!”</p><p>“Er, no ...Aster, you kind of are especially odd.” Peter. Fucking traitor. She glared at him, causing him to add quickly, “Not that that’s a <em>bad </em>thing, I’m just <em>saying</em>...”</p><p>“Would anyone else like to second the implication that I’m a fucking freak, while we’re on the point?” Teague actually raised a hand, because he was a bit dim like that. The look on his face as he did it was funny enough to get a smile from her, even under the circumstances. Apparently an unnerving one, because Gudgeon immediately raised a hand, too. Aster gave them an exasperated glare. “Fine, noted, you two can go, too. Anyone else got something to add?”</p><p>“It wasn’t my idea,” Remus said, darting an anxious look at Jamie — had he...? <em>No... </em>“But, well, it <em>is </em>the rule, having dorms split up by sex, and, well... It’s been two weeks, and you’re definitely still a girl, so... If this whole...whatever, does wear off, you can just move back, right?”</p><p>“Yeah, and it’s not like you’d be leaving the Tower, it’s just one stair over,” Pete added.</p><p><em>“Can </em>we kick him– her? him? <em>it </em>out of the House?” Walters asked, apparently sincerely. “It’s got to be against <em>some </em>rule, turning into a bloody <em>girl</em>.”</p><p><em>“No </em>, Mister Walters.” (“Yeah, Gryffindor doesn’t even <em>have </em>rules,” Aster put in.) “Your opinion on the matter has been noted, you may go.”</p><p>“If we’re taking opinions, does mine count?” Aster demanded. Pete looked around at the rest of them before shaking his head in answer to the question no one else seemed to have the balls to address. “What about the girls? Do they get a say in whether this shoe-losing freak gets fobbed off on them? I mean, if these pricks can just say we don’t want you in our room, why can’t they?”</p><p><em>“Because </em>, Mister Black, dormitories are divided by sex. The issue is not one of preference — the girls will simply have to become accustomed to your presence, as they would have had you been properly assigned to their room as a first-year.”</p><p>“Oh, yes, I’m sure I’m a danger to the virtue of innocent sixteen-year-old boys everywhere. If you’re making me sleep with the girls, you could at <em>least </em>call me <em>Miss </em>Black.” McGonagall went slightly pink, but didn’t admit that she was being a hypocritical bitch, choosing to enforce <em>this particular rule </em>when she also clearly still thought of Aster as a boy. She leaned around Remus to glare at James, two desks to her left. “You’ve been awfully quiet, James. I suppose you agree with all of them?”</p><p>“Well—” Jamie cleared his throat, then tried again. “Well, yeah? I mean, Pads, you’re a girl, now. And I <em>know </em>you don’t think it matters, but it really <em>does</em>, and no, I still can’t explain <em>why</em>, just—” He broke off, sounding all helpless and pained, as though he <em>really </em>didn’t want to be saying this, but he <em>had to</em>, because...<em>reasons</em>. (Reasons that weren’t just <em>James Potter is a twat and what the fuck even is </em>“gender identity”?<em> Gods-bedamned mind healer was </em>completely useless<em>, not explaining </em>shite<em>.</em>)</p><p>As though <em>he </em>was the one who had no say in this matter, and <em>he </em>was the one who’d just been stabbed in the fucking back by the blokes she’d <em>thought </em>were her friends.</p><p>“You’re breaking my heart, Jamie,” she said, drily enough that they could take it as sarcasm, despite it being <em>absolutely true</em>.</p><p>Jamie, at least, seemed to realise that, kind of. At least that he should feel guilty about being a twat, shrinking in on himself all ashamed. “I mean, it’s not— You’re still my friend, Siri– <em>Asteria</em>, just...it’s <em>different, </em>being friends with girls. Like Marley, or Alice.”</p><p>“Some consolation prize — I don’t want you to treat me like a fucking <em>girl</em>, James. Even if I'd been <em>born </em>female, I wouldn’t be some soft little light lady like <em>Marley or Alice</em>.” Not that Marlene and Alice weren’t <em>absolutely serious </em>about learning to fight and joining the Aurors when they left school, they were just...squishy. Emotionally speaking. She really had no room to judge when it came to being an angsty fucking mess (and never had), but she wasn’t one to go all googly-eyed over puffskeins and feed stray kittens and actually <em>give a shite </em>about hurting people’s fucking <em>feelings</em>. “Have you <em>met </em>Narcissa?” They’d <em>literally </em>been raised <em>exactly the same </em>from the time they were five fucking years old! “I don’t want you to worry about watching your fucking language and not making crude jokes around me, showing proper respect and whatever other dragonshite you light wizards think goes along with catering to delicate female sensibilities!”</p><p><em>“We </em>light wizards? You used to <em>be </em>a light wizard!”</p><p>“No, I was a <em>dark </em>wizard who decided to <em>act </em>light because the Dark is full of sick, twisted, evil shites and I want nothing to do with them—” (“Oh, and that’s why you ran off to spend the weekend before last with <em>Bellatrix</em>?” James said. Asteria ignored him.) “—but I was <em>raised </em>in a <em>dark </em>house where no one <em>gives </em>a shite if you’re male or female. Everyone learns <em>everything </em>about being a proper lord <em>and </em>lady, because who knows, you might have to teach it one day, or play that role in your House, and honestly all of the presentation dragonshite is kind of weird and prissy and refined anyway, and <em>none </em>of it is as important as how smoothly you can chain your curses and if you’re any good at healing charms, and learning to either always, <em>always </em>tell people what they want to hear, or get used to being beaten down until you’re strong enough to fight back and win or get the fuck out. What’s between your legs simply does. Not. <em>Matter! </em>Going softer on witches just because they’re <em>girls </em>and therefore delicate little flowers by definition, means you’re that much more likely to end up getting <em>killed</em> by a witch, full stop. If you’re going to start treating me differently because I’m a girl and it’s <em>so different </em>being friends with a fucking <em>girl</em>, you might as well go back to not talking to me at all.”</p><p>There was a beat of stunned silence, she could feel their eyes and their judgement pressing in on her. She knew her childhood wasn’t much like any of theirs, and Light kids found the way the Blacks did things to be slightly horrifying, but they <em>should </em>have been able to put together at <em>least </em>as much as she’d just implied from everything she’d let slip over the past five years. Well, maybe not McG — that actually looked like <em>pity </em>on her face there, for a second. (Aster sneered at her, because <em>fuck </em>pity!)</p><p>“Fine, then!”</p><p>“Fine, I should find someone else to tell me if I’m planning to do something crazy, or fine, you’re not going to treat me like a fucking girl?”</p><p>“No, I know it’s important to not... I won’t treat you like a girl, okay?”</p><p>Asteria had a terrible, sinking feeling that that <em>I know it’s important to not... </em>was something to do with not cutting her off or stopping talking to her again because she might lose her fucking mind — which, she thought it might be even worse that he felt like he had to treat her a particular way because she was fucking <em>insane </em>than because she was a girl, but she wasn’t going to have that argument here and now, with McGonagall already staring at her all tense like she might need to go for her wand and sedate Asteria at any moment. She bit her lower lip hard enough to bleed, blinking back hot tears of frustration and betrayal, shoving the pain away. Her voice was <em>almost </em>level when she said, “Then, fine.” She took a deep breath and put on her best impression of Auntie Dru: haughty and annoyed and vaguely offended by the very existence of these fucking idiots who were interrupting her day, her patience for their childish inanity <em>entirely </em>exhausted. “Thanks for the fucking heads-up about kicking me out of the room, James. I presume you’ve already had the elves move my shite?” she asked, turning to McGonagall.</p><p>“Five points for language, Black. But yes, your trunk and possessions have already been moved to your new bedroom. I’m sure Miss Evans will be more than willing to help you get settled in.”</p><p>Of course she would. Because not only was she getting kicked out of <em>her </em>room by blokes she’d <em>thought </em>were her <em>friends </em>— not only was Jamie being a fucking <em>twat </em>and pushing her away again over what was, really, a minor cosmetic difference in her physical appearance — but now she was going to have to share a fucking dorm with <em>Evans</em>. And Marley and Mary and the rest, there were seven girls in their year, not counting Asteria. They were probably going to be bitchy about having to make room for her, and tie up the bathroom for <em>hours </em>— she <em>never </em>had to fight the boys for time in front of the bathroom mirror in the morning. And she’d bet <em>anything </em>she was going to have to go through another round of <em>why did you turn yourself into a girl? </em>now that they knew this was permanent, and not just Sirius having a lark.</p><p>Fuck everything. Just...</p><p>Fuck.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Nemeses are better than friends</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asteria's mood was <em>not</em> improved by the fact that Evans was actually waiting for her in the Common Room. Honestly, how much "help settling in" could McG <em>possibly</em> think Asteria <em>needed?</em> It wasn't like bloody <em>first-years</em> got help "settling in" — she was <em>pretty sure</em> she could handle locating the only bed in the girls' room that wasn't occupied without Evans's help, and she <em>certainly</em> wasn't in the mood to deal with her playing the perfect prefect and offering false sympathy about the whole bloody situation.</p><p>"Fuck off, Evans," she spat, stalking past the redhead toward the stairs that led to the girls' rooms.</p><p>"How about <em>no</em>? We need to talk, Black," she said, following her up to the fourth landing.</p><p>Asteria ignored her, throwing open the door a little harder than necessary. Hard enough that in the boys' room it would definitely have banged against the wall (assuming Pete hadn't piled his dirty robes in the way again). Here it didn't, because it ran into what appeared to be a giant, floor-to-ceiling curtain of undyed linen or sailcloth or something, one side of a narrow corridor running about three-quarters of the length of the room. There was another narrow corridor, barely wide enough to walk through without one's shoulders touching the walls, leading to the bathroom, and a couple of flaps pinned up — had they decided they each wanted their own <em>tiny</em> room? What the <em>hell?</em></p><p>Or, well, she realised, reaching the end of the ‘corridor', that four of them wanted their own rooms, because it opened out into what was probably three-eighths of the room — the last quarter on the side with the windows, and about half on the other side — all the beds shoved to the inside wall and their wardrobes lined up against the "back" wall to make room in the nook by the window for a sofa and an armchair — occupied at the moment by Marlene, reading one of her smutty, lurid-covered romance novels.</p><p>"Black," she said coolly, glaring at Aster. "Can I help you with something?"</p><p>Aster rolled her eyes at the attitude. They'd been semi-regularly snogging for a while last year, even tried 'dating' for about a week and a half, which, given that they <em>apparently</em> had very different definitions of 'dating', had ended predictably <em>terribly</em>. Marley seemed to think that it included some degree of sexual and/or romantic exclusivity, while Aster still thought the whole point was <em>going on dates</em> — escorting her to Hogsmeade and sneaking out to have dinner in real restaurants and go to concerts and shite — not just fucking around.</p><p>There had been...kind of a lot of shouting, back in March, Aster didn't think they'd said more than a few words to each other in passing since they'd 'broken up'. (The whole experience was just...baffling, really — it wasn't like she'd ever even <em>implied</em> she wanted to be in any sort of exclusive relationship, but whatever.) Remus had sided with Marley, agreed with her that Sirius had been a prick about "breaking things off like that" — even though it was <em>Marley </em>who started getting all weird and insistant about fucking <em>monogamy </em>(they weren't married! and even if they were, who <em>wasn't</em> stepping out?) — it was a whole <em>thing</em>, but that was practically a fucking <em>lifetime</em> ago, how the <em>fuck</em> wasn't she over it by now?</p><p>"Apparently I live here, now."</p><p>"Oh, you do, do you? Because I don't see a bed for you, and if you think you're sharing mine, you are <em>sadly</em> mistaken."</p><p>"Still a crack-up, Marley. Seriously, McGee said the elves moved my shite already, where is it?"</p><p>She clicked her tongue in annoyance, threw a knockback jinx past Aster at the curtain halfway down the inside wall. It didn't move under the impact, the energy of the spell racing over the fabric until it dissipated or was absorbed by the enchantments on it.</p><p>"Damn it, Marley!" Evans shouted from the other side of it, appearing a moment later in the opening between the curtains. It seemed she'd been in the midst of changing into something more comfortable, because she definitely hadn't been wearing jeans under her school robes, earlier. That was the sort of thing most muggleborns, Evans included, were very careful not to do after they realised it marked them out as hopelessly foreign. (Aster, on the other hand, used to wear jeans and tee-shirts under her robes all the time — everyone knew <em>she </em>knew she wasn't supposed to, that was what made it <em>rebellious</em>. She should pop down to London tomorrow, look for muggle trousers that actually fit...) "What do you want?"</p><p>"If you don't want us knocking, don't silence us. I thought we all agreed <em>you </em>were going to deal with Black."</p><p>"We did, yes. Black didn't. She has every right to have a look around. If you don't want people wandering in, put up a bloody door."</p><p>"Maybe we will! Black, Evans. I believe you've met. You're her problem, not mine, so kindly bugger off."</p><p>"Such a sweet-tempered girl, I can't for the life of me think why I didn't ask your father to consider a betrothal contract." This time, Marley's jinx was aimed at Aster's head. She ducked it easily. "Alright, alright, I can take a hint."</p><p>She brushed past Evans back into the corridor — wider than the one to the loo, but not by much — ignoring Marley muttering something that might have been, "I'll believe it when I see it."</p><p>"So, where's my shite, then?"</p><p>Evans sighed. "In my section." She quirked her head back toward the doorway. "I <em>told</em> you we needed to talk."</p><p>"I'm listening."</p><p>"So am I," Marlene called, reminding them that, fake walls or no, they were still kind of in the middle of the room.</p><p>"Not <em>here</em>, come on." She led the way back toward an opening Aster hadn't noticed, pointing as she did to the door-flaps on the window side of the corridor. "That one's Christina — she snores like you wouldn't believe, so she gets her own section." It was absolutely <em>tiny</em>, the size of the salon-nook in Marlene's section — the bed, desk and wardrobe took up almost all of the floor space — which made it look untidier than it actually was. The busy, vaguely floral designs she'd painted on the inside of the walls didn't help, either. "And Ellie and Erin have the quarter opposite mine. Ellie wanted a little more privacy when they started going together." Aster peeked in to see what looked like two four-posters that had been transfigured into one much larger bed, a couple of desks and wardrobes. In contrast to Christy's section, it was unnaturally tidy, no dirty clothes or stray quills to be seen anywhere.</p><p>Evans waved Aster past her, into the quarter of the room which was apparently hers. "Prefects get double space, or what?" she asked, curious about the whole arrangement rather in spite of herself.</p><p>"No, we basically divided the room into eight when we split it up in third year. Katie and Mary decided that since I didn't have a window, I could have the extra floor space." She closed the flap, the curtain sealing automatically, leaving only a faintly glowing line to show where the ‘door' was.</p><p>Unlike the curtains portioning off the other spaces, which had rippled slightly as they walked past and stopped at the castle walls, Evans had covered the stone as well to create a sort of tent around the entire space, and enchanted the cloth to be stiff. The resulting walls had dozens of other enchantments painted onto them, the runes glowing with soft, silver light — two sets of silencing charms, though only the one stopping external sound coming in was active (Aster was guessing it always was, since that would explain why Marlene had chucked a jinx at the wall rather than just yelling), and a Somebody Else's Problem field centered on the door (explained why Aster hadn't noticed it when she'd walked in), a few protective charms and lock-out barriers, a one-way transparency thing so she could see what was going on out in the rest of the room if she wanted to, and some which were purely aesthetic, tinting the background cloth various shades of purple and blue. Asteria could believe she'd been working on it for at least a couple of years. There were little ambient magic siphoning arrays here and there, quartz crystals sewn into the fabric to store power and sustain the whole thing...</p><p>If she were inclined to praise Evans for anything — which she wasn't, on principle — she'd say it was really fucking neat.</p><p>Aster's trunk — packed by the elves, she hoped, because while Remus was reasonably good at organising shite she could never find anything when he did, and any of the other boys would have just thrown everything in as they managed to lay hands on it — was already there, waiting in the middle of the floor. They'd also brought in a second desk and wardrobe, and... "What the hell is that?"</p><p>"Bunk beds? Muggles have them in barracks and dormitories to save floor space." She looked up at the double-decker bed, cocking her head to one side and biting her lip as though trying not to smile. "They...don't normally have curtains. I didn't think to tell the elves that."</p><p>Okay...that <em>might</em> be less weird. Maybe. But as it was, the contraption basically looked like someone had literally stacked two normal four-posters on top of each other. Or, well, a normal four-poster on top of one with curtains charmed white, presumably because the red clashed with the walls. The posts might have been a little shorter than usual, so they'd both fit without hitting the ceiling, and she was sure the elves would have made sure the thing was sturdy enough not to fall apart and crush the lower bed, but... "Why the hell would you have them stack the beds in the first place?"</p><p>"I just <em>said</em>, to save floor space," Evans snapped.</p><p>"I fucking <em>heard</em> you, but this," Aster waved at the beds, "strongly suggests you think I'm going to sleep not only in the same <em>dorm</em> as you, but in the same <em>quarter</em> of a dorm, when clearly having my own space <em>is</em> an option. Why the hell wouldn't you just put up another wall?" she demanded, pacing around her trunk, which the elves had left in the middle of the floor.</p><p>Evans activated the enchantment to stop anyone overhearing them and flicked the curtains of the lower bed open so she could sit on the edge of it. "This is why I said we needed to talk."</p><p>"Well, you have my attention! Start talking!"</p><p>Evans's eyes flashed a bright, unnatural green, just for a blink — almost the exact shade of a Killing Curse, which was unnerving as hell. "Watch your fucking tone, Black, before I re-think offering you a truce."</p><p>"What makes you think I<em> want</em> a truce?!"</p><p>"Oh, you'd rather I kill you for trying to kill Sev?"</p><p>Aster snorted. As if she would stand a chance. "I wasn't trying to kill him — I was just trying to get him expelled for trying to break into the Shack. And I wouldn't even have done that if <em>you</em>, crazy bitch, hadn't ruined my entire fucking life."</p><p>"Which <em>I</em> wouldn't have done if you hadn't fucking <em>assaulted</em> Sev after OWLs," Evans snapped, rising to stand <em>far</em> too close to Aster.</p><p>"I was bored, and he had that pantsing coming after that polyjuice stunt, don't even <em>pretend</em> you don't know what I'm talking about."</p><p>"Well in that case, I was bored at the party, and you had it coming because you're a twat." She glared at Aster for several long seconds — tempting her to just grab the bitch and bite <em>her</em> pouty lower lip because <em>fuck me, fuck the world, let's make bad choices, it will be </em>fun<em>.</em></p><p>She managed to restrain herself long enough Evans apparently decided she wasn't going to respond. She whirled away back to her bed, long, unbound hair whipping across Aster's face as she did, which was just <em>rude</em> and <em>incredibly</em> dismissive, made Aster want to grab her arm and wrench her back around to smack her for her impertinence, see what she did <em>then</em>—</p><p><em>No</em>, they <em>were not</em> going there again! Even if she had woken up covered in bruises and scratches and— <em>No! Stop it, Aster!</em> "I want you to tell Jamie you seduced me," she said. "If we're going to have a truce."</p><p>"Sorry, Black, I have a policy of not speaking to Potter if at all possible. We're going to have a truce because as far as I figure we're more or less even at the moment. Sev and I are willing to let that little werewolf incident go if you leave us the fuck alone until we all leave school."</p><p>"Sorry, Evans, I have a policy of not making truces with slimy, wannabe Death Eater gits and muggleborn girls stupid enough to date them even <em>after</em> getting called a mudblood in front of half the school."</p><p>"First off, Sev and I are not dating. Secondly, he doesn't want to be a Death Eater. And thirdly, we have more important things to do than play games with you, so this ends now — either with a truce or, I swear to fucking god, I <em>will</em> murder your crazy arse."</p><p>Didn't address the mudblood comment, Aster noticed. "Good luck with that," she scoffed. Evans's eyes narrowed, but before she could elaborate on her patently ridiculous threat, she added, "What do you have to do that's more important than playing games with me?"</p><p>Kind of a funny way to think of it. Funny for Evans, she meant. Aster was <em>hardly</em> the only Black who considered the kind of back-and-forth enmity they had — or that they <em>had</em> had, before Evans ruined everything back in September, escalating shite like a fucking <em>crazy person</em> — more of a game than anything. Though that probably did explain why she was such a good nemesis — Snivels would throw her off a fucking tower if he thought he could get away with it (which <em>did</em> kind of make it funnier to annoy him), but Evans didn't <em>really</em> want to end the game any more than Aster did.</p><p>"At the moment? Planning to humiliate Mulciber at dinner tomorrow."</p><p>That actually took Aster slightly aback. "Why? I mean, not that Ian's not an enormous wanker, he should be humiliated at dinner every night, but I presume he's been doing something specific to earn your gracious attentions?"</p><p>Evans rolled her eyes. "Not that it's really any of your business, but your little metamorphosis and your dear baby brother's communications with Cousin Bella have rather upset the focus of the recruitment attempts going on down in Slytherin. Reg told Sev that the Blackheart told <em>him</em> you're allowed to fight for the Light because, let's face it, most of the Headmaster's little after-school club aren't in it for the right reasons, so we've started a rumour that she wants a few more people to ‘escape' into Dumbles's ranks and act as spies. We <em>were</em> going to start pretending our friendship had completely collapsed in the hopes they'd back off if they thought they were getting somewhere and/or to stop them using me as leverage over him, but I've changed my mind."</p><p><em>What?</em> It probably shouldn't surprise Aster that Reggie's little recruitment squad had been threatening to use Snivels's friendship with Evans against him, but for some reason it did. Maybe because she still wasn't over the idea that Snivels, slimy little dark arts nerd that he was, didn't <em>want</em> to join the Death Eaters, and had been so resolute in resisting them that they'd had to resort to that sort of underhanded shite, rather than sort of tempting him into it by offering research opportunities or something. Maybe an apprenticeship.</p><p>"Now we're going to continue to resist them — escalate shite, even, make it clear we're just as serious about this as they are — and if we can't convince them that continuing to try to recruit Sev by torturing him and threatening me is...let's say <em>unwise</em>, we'll be in a good position to reluctantly acquiesce to their demands, while arguing that we're perfectly placed to be accepted into Dumbles's club specifically because we've been so openly hostile to them for the past however many months, and in fact need to continue acting as we have done in order to secure that reputation, blah, blah, trust me, I can spin it. Sure, you and I know Old Snakeface probably wouldn't go for it, but it should sow enough confusion about whose side we're really on to at least let us get out of school without making any binding loyalty oaths to either side. Mulciber's just conveniently loud and stupid. Makes a good target."</p><p>Well, that was true, Aster guessed. She'd kind of forgotten she'd asked a question, getting all caught up in the answer. "<em>We</em>?" she repeated. Because while it wasn't <em>that</em> weird that Evans might consider joining the Dark Wanker's little knock-off Miskatonic — Aster suspected that there were more Death Eaters doing research and shite than actual fighters — or at least let them believe that she was interested to avoid being separated from her precious Snivels, it <em>was</em> kind of weird that she'd think they'd consider her application. Generally speaking, the rule was no mudbloods allowed.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You, crazy bitch — you keep saying <em>we</em>. You don't think they're going to try to recruit <em>you</em>, do you?"</p><p>Evans gave her a far-too-innocent smile. "I think they will after Samhain, especially if I make it clear that I'm not letting go of Sev without a fight."</p><p>Asteria wasn't sure she wanted to know, but "...<em>Why</em>?"</p><p>"Come and see. I have an idea for the sacrifice of feeling, it should be interesting."</p><p>"You can't sacrifice something you don't have, Evans," she snapped, almost reflexively.</p><p>Evans gasped, a hand flying to her chest. "I can't believe you would say something like that! You're hurting all the feelings I don't have! I might cry." Aster snorted at the tone of false anguish. The crazy bitch smirked, dropping the act. "Somehow, I doubt Kore will consider me an inadequate sacrifice, no matter how little sympathy I have for my enemies."</p><p>"They're really letting <em>you </em>be an anchor?" Yes, Evans <em>had</em> been involving herself in the school rituals — the Slytherin House rituals, technically, though anyone who knew about them was welcome to attend — practically <em>forever</em>, but the people in charge of organising shite tended to be stuck up traditionalist purebloods like Cissy or Evan Rosier. Even if they did let her participate, the sacrifice of feeling was the last of nine, one of the major linchpins of the ritual. Supposedly the sacrifice tended to feel kind of numb and dead inside for a few days afterward, and being a focal point for that much power was always terrifying, but it was kind of a major honour to be asked. For people who were into that sort of thing.</p><p>"Why wouldn't they? Pandora and Narcissa are both on the organising committee, and I <em>definitely</em> remember seeing Cissa at Walpurgis, so." Right. Never mind. Aster had seen her at Walpurgis, too — Magic Itself chooses its host for the Unbinding, and for some gods-unknown reason It had taken a shine to Evans. She had ended up being possessed by Chaos and Choice for the better part of the evening.</p><p>There...wasn't any sort of lingering effect to that, was there? Because if there were, that would go a long way toward explaining how it could <em>possibly</em> have seemed like a good idea to kiss the crazy bitch again (violently snog her, whatever) a moment ago, despite all of the shite that had <em>just</em> happened because of the <em>last</em> time she'd done that...</p><p>"You <em>do</em> realise the rhetoric skews <em>heavily</em> against...people like you," she said, mostly to change the subject.</p><p>"<em>No</em>, the rhetoric — the <em>actual</em> rhetoric, not the light propaganda and shite kids here have built off of it trying to convince idiots with no interest in politics to join them — skews heavily against people like Ellie and Charity. Muggleborns who want to bring in muggle ideas and traditions rather than integrating properly. Muggleborns who make a point of seeking out <em>real</em>, capital-M Magic instead of just learning party tricks and treating it like a <em>tool</em> are theoretically <em>fine</em>. Your dear brother has been ever so helpful, providing us with a copy of the actual manifesto of the Knights of Walpurgis." There was a manifesto? Aster didn't know there was a bloody <em>manifesto!</em> (Reggie hadn't <em>made up</em> a fucking manifesto, had he? If de Mort hadn't actually written it himself, he was going to be <em>livid</em> when he found out.) "Especially with Bella undermining the local recruiters' assumptions about who they're supposed to be targeting and what the purpose of the war actually <em>is</em>."</p><p>"Fuck the manifesto! You <em>really</em> think they'd believe you'd go along with— You know they've been killing muggleborn kids and their families, right? That's what happened in Kensington last November." There had been a raid on a muggle primary school, over a dozen children fucking <em>slaughtered</em>, it was <em>horrible.</em> And she was pretty sure Bella had been involved — she hadn't denied it when Aster had been shouting at her, at Yule. (She'd have to try to remember that next time she started thinking Bella was her favourite cousin...)</p><p>Evans's bright green eyes grew hard, giving Aster the coldest, flattest <em>stare </em>she'd ever seen on anyone (except maybe de Mort, but he was <em>literally</em> a cold-blooded snake, he didn't count). "Principles are a luxury, Black, not a priority. I can't say I want much to do with either side of this bloody stupid war. I don't like Dumbledore's politics or de Mort's methods. But I will do whatever I have to do to get myself and Severus through this thing alive." Asteria shivered. Evans gave her a sunny grin, the cold darkness behind her eyes vanishing so thoroughly Aster could almost imagine she hadn't seen it. "I think they'll believe me."</p><p>Yeah, Aster did too. In fact, she was starting to believe Evans might actually be capable of plotting to kill her. She did still think she was bluffing — and even if she wasn't, Aster still doubted she'd succeed — but if she was already resigned to ending the game... "Has anyone ever told you that you're terrifying, Evans?"</p><p>Her grin only grew broader. "Surprisingly rarely. Anyway, that's just a backup plan. Plan <em>A</em> is to hold off the recruiters long enough to get our NEWTs and get the fuck out of Britain. I hear the Americas are nice." Yeah, Asteria just <em>bet</em> she did. Those east coast river valleys by the sea in particular. "So, Sev and I'll be too busy making the baby Death Eaters' lives hell to play games with you."</p><p>It didn't really take much time for Aster to decide, "Alright, I'm in."</p><p>"<em>Excuse</em> me?" That look of mild, offended outrage made Evans look uncannily like Narcissa, Aster thought. She wondered for a moment when the two of <em>them</em> had been spending so much time together for Evans to be mimicking her expressions, before realising that Cissy probably had that look whenever she happened to see Evans and Snivels together in the library or whatever.</p><p>"I'm in. I'll take your truce and work on torturing the wannabe baby Death Eaters instead of you."</p><p>"I wasn't asking for your help, Black," she said, all snide and sarcastic.</p><p>"I'm not really offering to <em>help</em> you, just to leave you alone—"</p><p>"And Sev."</p><p>"Yes, yes, and your beloved <em>Sev</em>. And also informing you that I'll probably be spending my newly free time giving the baby Death Eaters hell because, well, why shouldn't I rub it in that I've actually been encouraged to oppose them? I still don't want to share a bedroom with you, though."</p><p>"Well, you're going to have to, at least for a few nights."</p><p>"<em>Why</em>?"</p><p>"Obviously it takes time to make more walls."</p><p>"What's the big deal, just move <em>that</em> one in," the wall between her and Marlene, "move my bed out, and that's that!"</p><p>"A, I would have to adjust half of the enchantments on the walls to a smaller space, B, I <em>like</em> having a little elbow room, and C, we'd still need to make a new wall to put between you and <em>them</em>."</p><p>"A, tough titties, B, see point <em>A</em>, and C, why?"</p><p>Evans gave her a look as though she was being intentionally stupid. "They don't want to live with <em>you </em>any more than they want to live with <em>me</em>. We talked about it ages ago, what we'd do when McGee finally realised you're a girl now, and they decided that since I have the most floor space and I said I didn't see why everyone was being so weird and uncomfortable about you suddenly being female, I have to deal with you."</p><p>Aster was torn. On the one hand, it was weird as hell that Evans <em>didn't</em> think it was weird she'd become a girl — the overwhelming majority of everyone she'd spoken to in the past two weeks thought it was, the other muggleborns unanimously. But on the other hand, she suddenly found she <em>needed</em> to know what the politics were within her new dorm, because she'd been under the impression that Evans was generally popular and well-liked by their year-mates. But then, Evans never had actually said why she had her own little cordoned-off section of the room, either, so... "What do you mean, they don't want to live with you?" Her eyes narrowed as though she thought Aster was taking the piss. "Seriously, I thought you were all friends."</p><p>"Um...no? Definitely not. I mean, we're friend<em>ly</em>, but, well, I kind of get tired of dealing with their stupid gossip and petty problems, and I... You know how sometimes you feel like you have to act a certain way because everyone expects you to, and if you don't they'll hate you — or worse, be afraid of you — and dealing with that would be <em>way</em> more tedious than just pretending you are whatever they want you to be, but that doesn't mean it's not still exhausting and annoying and just generally kind of miserable?"</p><p>"...<em>Maybe</em>." Aster was more familiar with that feeling than she liked to admit. The idea that she and Evans were very similar in certain ways had occurred to her before, but she didn't care to admit that either. "But that's why you wouldn't want to live with them, not why they wouldn't want to live with you."</p><p>Evans rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, you may have noticed, I'm not a nice person."</p><p>Aster's lips twitched in an involuntary smirk. "You don't say."</p><p>She shrugged. "You'd be surprised how many people believe the façade. <em>I'm</em> surprised how many people believe the façade. Anyway, I actually <em>did</em> share with everyone until...about halfway through third year, I guess. And, um...it's possible I don't always do a <em>great</em> job censoring myself and keeping up a mask all the time. I can pretend to be their friend, but I'm not. Not really. And after two years actually <em>living</em> together? Yeah, they figured it out. When we started splitting the room up after Yule for Erin and Ellie they, um...kind of came to a consensus on the fact that I'm, ah...a bit weird and vaguely disturbing, and everyone would really be more comfortable if we had our own space. By which they meant if <em>I</em> had my own space and they didn't have to deal with me when I'm not in the mood to deal with <em>them</em>. And I mean, they're not <em>wrong</em>, I like it better this way, too, and they clearly felt bad about basically kicking me out, but." She shrugged, giving Aster a tiny, self-deprecating smile. "Still kind of stings a bit."</p><p>"Aw, see, now you ruined it."</p><p>The self-deprecating smile twisted into confusion. "What?"</p><p>"You <em>were</em> being all sincere and sympathetic, and then you had to go implying that they hurt the feelings you don't have. All sympathy points rescinded for lying so <em>obviously</em>."</p><p>"I <em>wasn't</em>. It <em>does</em> sting, in a <em>way to go Evans, you tipped your hand again</em> sort of way. Though, only a bit, since I do like it better this way, and I didn't freak them out badly enough that they actually started shunning me or something. You can keep your sympathy points, though. What the hell would <em>I</em> do with them?"</p><p>"Good question. Same thing we do with House points, I guess?"</p><p>"Tell people they're a Tool of the Man and ignore the egregious numbers you lose?"</p><p>"Yep. Though, if you want, I'll make you a Pity Cup at the end of the year. It'll have glitter on it. <em>Sad</em> glitter."</p><p>Evans giggled.</p><p>After a second, Aster realised she was laughing, too — <em>i.e.</em> actually <em>sharing a laugh</em>, with <em>Evans</em>. "Hey! Stop that! I know I'm fucking hilarious, but did you forget we hate each other?"</p><p>"But...<em>sad glitter</em>..." Evans took a deep breath, biting her lip to try to stop herself smiling. "I'm good, I'm fine. But I don't really <em>hate </em>you, hate you," she said, changing the subject in an apparent bid to get a hold of herself. "You're infuriating and do all sorts of shite to hurt the only person I really care about, so I mean, <em>kind of</em>, on principle, but I don't know, being enemies with someone for five years, I kind of feel like I know you — a hell of a lot better than I know any of <em>them</em>—" She tipped her head toward the rest of the room. "—and it's... The fact that I want to slap you most of the time doesn't mean I don't <em>get</em> you, and that means a hell of a lot more to me than just <em>being nice</em>. Like, obviously we're not <em>friends</em>, but..." She shrugged.</p><p>Aster snorted, trying not to laugh, and then gave up, high giggles filling the space around them. "The word you're looking for is <em>nemeses</em>. We're nemeses."</p><p>"I'm not a bloody comic book villain, Black."</p><p>Aster was obviously missing something. "I...never said you were?" She was only vaguely familiar with the concept, Gudgeon had brought a small collection of the illustrated muggle stories back with him after Yule first year, but she'd never actually read them.</p><p>"Yeah, well, real people don't have nemeses."</p><p>"Don't be stupid, of course they do. What else do you call the enemies you don't actually want to <em>eliminate</em>?"</p><p>"...Is that actually a thing? I mean, yeah, obviously that's a thing, I don't want you dead or anything—" <em>Ha!</em> She knew it! Evans was <em>totally</em> bluffing! (Not that it mattered, she wasn't going to back out of their truce now that she'd agreed to it.) "—but no one else goes around talking about having nemeses."</p><p>She was pretty sure it was...though...maybe not? Now that she mentioned it, Aster wasn't sure she'd ever heard anyone outside the Family use it like that... "I...<em>think</em> so? It <em>might</em> be a House of Black thing." Really, that was just as likely as Evans never having heard of people having nemeses because she was muggleborn. Actually, it might be more likely, because now she was thinking about it, she couldn't think of hearing anyone outside the House refer to nemeses, either. She was pretty sure Bella was the one who'd explained the concept to her when she was seven or eight. "Actually, it's <em>probably</em> a House of Black thing. Whatever, point is, nemeses are...kind of like rivals, or opponents in a game. Not friends, but life would be boring without them."</p><p>Evans shrugged, nodded. "Fine, nemeses. But we have a truce now, anyway, so I may want to smack you most of the time, but I don't have to pretend to be nice to you and I do like having some space to move around in in here, plus I'd rather not go through the hassle of adjusting all the enchantments in here for a smaller area."</p><p>"So, to be clear, you'd actually <em>prefer</em> to share a room with <em>me</em> rather than have your privacy?"</p><p>"I <em>prefer</em> to not feel like I'm fucking suffocating because the room is taller than it is wide and there's about eight square feet of unoccupied floor space. I <em>will</em> let you have your own space if you want it, McGee would give me hell if I didn't, but yes, I would rather share."</p><p>"If you put in a tent floor and ceiling, you could expand it back out again," Aster noted, looking around at the fabric walls.</p><p>Evans's eyes went wide. "I <em>could!</em> Hell, we <em>could</em> expand the whole room out, make room for a proper circle in here! I mean, I'd still have to adjust all the enchantments, but it might be worth it. We could do it over Yule, when everyone else goes home."</p><p>"What, seriously?"</p><p>She nodded eagerly. "Why not?"</p><p>"Oh, well, living inside an unanchored space expansion charm is generally a bad idea, you know, in case they collapse." Most of the time all the shite inside them would just be crushed together, but sometimes they failed in really spectacular, multidimensional ways, so anyone inside wasn't actually physically injured, but they might starve to death before they figured out how to get out. "And casting other magic inside them makes them more unstable. Also, I'm pretty sure if you evoke anything in the castle, you'll ping the wards, so putting a circle in here would be fucking stupid."</p><p>Evans pouted. "It was your idea!"</p><p>The <em>put a circle in your dorm room</em> part wasn't. "Yeah, I have a lot of ideas I tend not to think through before suggesting them, or just going ahead and doing them. See, me now being female and thereby getting myself exiled to your little pariah-dom." She let herself collapse to sit on her trunk, suddenly tired of pacing, trying not to think too hard about the look on Jamie's face saying, <em>No, I know it's important to not... I won't treat you like a girl</em>. Fucking liar. He wouldn't be able to help himself.</p><p>"Yeah, well, people are stupid about the <em>weirdest</em> things."</p><p>"I've noticed. Apparently making disingenuous passes at Walters is less acceptable for Asteria than Sirius."</p><p>"Why? He has to know you wouldn't do him anyway." Evans paused. "You wouldn't, would you? I mean, even <em>you</em> have to have<em> some</em> standards."</p><p>"Clearly not, since I did fuck <em>you</em>. But no, I wouldn't. He's...really boring, honestly. Kind of amusing to fuck with his head, you'd think he'd be used to me by now, but no."</p><p>Evans gave her a wry smirk. "So I meet your standards for <em>not boring</em>?"</p><p>Asteria nodded, her face growing slightly warm at the hazy, drug-addled memory. "Don't get <em>too</em> full of yourself, there — it's not a <em>high</em> standard. Anyway, I got kicked out because apparently it's even weirder just being myself as a girl than when I was a boy, presumably because they're uncomfortable fancying a fucking weirdo. You?"</p><p>"Ah... I think you'd say I'm too dark? I mean, the girls would have other specific reasons if you asked <em>them</em>, but it really boils down to me being more aligned with dark politics and interested in traditional holidays and high magic — they're all progressives or muggleborn, so that alone is <em>weird</em> — and occasionally not catching myself before saying something like, oh, I don't know, I prefer the baby Death Eaters being openly racist over Dumbledore being a patronising, paternalistic arse toward muggleborns and muggles." Aster had to wonder what Dumbledore had done to insult them this time. He <em>did</em> manage to put his foot in his mouth periodically, Evans wasn't the only muggleborn who didn't really like him, for all he tended to support muggleborn rights and muggle protection legislation (though they tended to be in Ravenclaw). "Or, why do people hate wilderfolk? They can't help who their parents were. Or, why are basic first-aid charms <em>restricted spells</em>? I'm sure I can think of dozens of ways to hurt people with any <em>other</em> class of charms, too. And generally being a coldhearted bitch — how did you put it? a selfish, manipulative demonic entity incapable of human emotion?"</p><p>"I wouldn't have said that if I'd been in my right mind, you know."</p><p>"You don't have to apologise," she sniggered. "Honestly, I kind of like it. Slightly hyperbolic, maybe — I'm not actually a demon <em>or</em> a complete psychopath — but I probably wouldn't be willing to share a room with you if you hadn't said it."</p><p>"Just to be clear, I'm not apologising, I'm just saying I wouldn't have actually said it."</p><p>She shrugged, apparently neither surprised nor bothered. "And I'm not saying you didn't deserve to be slapped for saying it in the middle of the Great Hall, just, it's nice to know at least one person in this fucking school doesn't expect me to put on a bloody show. Well, two, counting Sev, but we've known each other since we were <em>five</em>. I <em>can't </em>lie to him." Yes, Aster was certain Snivels being a legilimens had <em>nothing</em> to do with that. "So, since it's not feasible to actually live inside a space-expansion charm, I'm sticking with, yeah, I'd rather share."</p><p>"You're sure?"</p><p>"Would I have said it if I weren't?"</p><p>"Well, the way I see it, <em>you're</em> the one who doesn't want to put in the work to readjust your enchantments <em>and</em> the one who's worried about feeling all claustrophobic if we cut this room in half." Not that Aster wouldn't be kind of uncomfortable herself, but she didn't normally spend much time in her dorm room, anyway, and Evans had admitted it first, so she could definitely use it as leverage. "So, if I agree to share, I'm really doing you a favour."</p><p>Evans's eyes narrowed. "I'm interested to hear where you're going with this."</p><p>"Where I'm going with this is, since I <em>could</em> have had my own space and <em>you're</em> the one who wants to share, I'm not going to make <em>any</em> efforts to accommodate you. I'm going to act <em>exactly</em> like I would if I had my own room. And you don't get to bitch and moan and be all, <em>put some bloody clothes on, Aster</em> or <em>I didn't say you could borrow my towel, Aster</em>—" Her lack of regard for the concept of personal possessions was probably the thing her former roommates had found second-most-weird-and-annoying about living with her, back when they'd first moved in together — after her complete lack of modesty (which was the most weird) and her inability to keep a normal sleep schedule (which was the most annoying). In her defense, everything at home had belonged to the House, with the exception of like, your <em>wand</em> (and anything else specifically enchanted to be used by a single person). Towels were definitely communal property. "—or <em>stop waking me up at four in the morning because you've lost a bloody shoe, Aster</em>."</p><p>Evans was <em>clearly</em> trying to maintain a serious expression, but there was definitely a degree of amusement tugging at her lips. "I don't care if you wear clothes or not, but I'm not adjusting the warming charms in here if you get cold; you can borrow anything you want as long as I get it back eventually, in the same condition it was when you took it; and if you wake me up at four in the morning, I'll probably hex you before I'm conscious enough to stop myself."</p><p>Aster shrugged, nodded. Reasonable enough.</p><p>"How can you possibly lose your shoes, though? I <em>know</em> you can do a summoning charm."</p><p>"Do you not enchant your shoes to resist summoning? That's a basic physical security measure, Evans." Granted, usually only dueling boots were spelled so they couldn't be summoned, but Asteria's entire female wardrobe (including all of her shoes, her feet were noticeably smaller now) had been designed and constructed under Bellatrix's supervision, and Bella quite reasonably expected that <em>she</em> might be involved in a fight at any time, regardless of what she was wearing. She'd insisted on certain "basic" protections, which meant literally every piece of clothing Aster owned, barring a few now slightly-oversized muggle concert tee-shirts, had defensive enchantments worked in.</p><p>"That...seems slightly paranoid."</p><p>Aster winked at her. "It's not paranoid if they really are trying to kill you. Though, honestly, that's what I said. And then Bella lectured me for half an hour because dismissing what she calls perfectly reasonable defensive measures as paranoid is the sort of shite that gets you killed and she was paying for it and just go look at tiny hats or something to kill time while the nice little old tailor who may or may not be a Death Eater spells all your robes so someone doesn't ambush you in Hogsmeade and put a piercing hex through your heart before you realise you're in a fight, this isn't optional, blah, blah, blah."</p><p>Evans was <em>clearly</em> trying not to laugh. "I wouldn't have guessed the bloody Blackheart to be the overprotective sort."</p><p>"Protective, yes. Overprotective, no. I was also recently reminded that it is not and has never been her job to coddle me. She just doesn't want someone to assassinate me because they mistook me for her. We do look...kind of a <em>lot</em> alike, now."</p><p>"You <em>do</em> know your appearance barely changed, right? If you look like her now, you must have always looked like her." Well <em>obviously</em>, had she never... Oh, right, muggleborn. Even after five years, it was still kind of weird, thinking that there were people around who hadn't been raised around the Noble Houses enough to at least have a general idea of what they all looked like — Bella was <em>notorious</em>, it would be impossible not to have heard of her, but she didn't exactly have her picture in the papers very often. "But I thought you weren't on speaking terms with your family?"</p><p>Obviously she wasn't. Except Bella now, and Cissy and Reg when she couldn't avoid them. And it was more like <em>shouting</em> terms with Cissy, anyway... "Where did you hear that?"</p><p>She shrugged. "Sev, where did you <em>think?</em> Not sure where he got it from, but on the rare occasion he deigns to spread gossip, it's almost always accurate."</p><p>Probably Reggie. Prat. "I'm <em>not</em>."</p><p>"But you went shopping with Bellatrix?"</p><p>Aster pouted at her, annoyed that Evans had asked, and more annoyed with herself for mentioning her fucking shoes in the first place. Now she had to try to justify voluntarily spending time with Bella! "Yes. Because I was out of my fucking mind and thought it would be a good idea to ask someone I know through her if she could give me the name of a bioalchemist or something, and Zee pretty much just dragged me over to fucking <em>de Mort's</em> house, like, oh, no big deal, la di dah, just going to walk in on the fucking Dark Lord, now, whatever — I was, remember, out of my mind, and <em>I</em> thought that was kind of a bad idea. Not that she told me where we were going ahead of time. And then she <em>left</em> me there, because she was annoyed I woke her up in the middle of the night for something so very stupid."</p><p><em>"Mmm</em>, I was wondering who did the ritual for you — I mean, it <em>had</em> to be a ritual, this sort of thing takes <em>weeks</em> with bioalchemy, right? And Sev says there's absolutely <em>no</em> way to fuck up a sex-change potion to make it permanent that wouldn't have killed you by now. So... How'd you do it?"</p><p>"Family secret," Aster said, very nearly automatically. That was pretty much the go-to response for avoiding admitting doing or knowing something illegal. Of course, everyone <em>knew</em> it was a cover, but they couldn't really <em>prove it</em>, so.</p><p>"Liar."</p><p>"You know, most people ask <em>why</em> I did it, not <em>how</em>."</p><p>Evans blinked at her. "I don't really care <em>why</em> you did it, though I kind of assumed it was because Potter doesn't go for blokes?" Aster felt her face grow warm again. "I mean, I definitely approve, if you can get him to be all ridiculously obsessive over you instead of me, more power to you, though I'm pretty sure you're not his type, y-chromosome or no."</p><p>"What the hell is <em>that</em> supposed to mean?"</p><p>"Er...he's ‘in love' with the <em>perfect prefect, muggleborn golden girl</em> version of me, not <em>me</em>, me. And you're a hell of a lot more like <em>me</em> than that particular character. And Potter <em>knows you</em>. Maybe not as well as he thought he did if you turning into a girl overnight actually <em>surprises</em> him, but—" What, like Evans had actually <em>expected</em> something like this from Sirius? Bull-fucking-shite! <em>Aster</em> hadn't even known she was going to do it until about half an hour before she actually <em>did</em>. "—unless you're planning on pretending there's a dramatic personality adjustment that goes along with your little makeover, you're probably screwed."</p><p>That was...honestly an idea she'd never considered. A <em>genius</em> idea! "Evans, don't take this the wrong way, but I might love you!"</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
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  <em>Hi! Lysandra here. Leigha recruited me to clean up the formatting, so I'll be doing much of the posting going forward. I'll probably go back and clean up the other chapters at some point too. Just to be clear, I'm not responsible for any of the writing just a bit of editing.</em>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Uh-huh, "historical chronicle", *right*... (Aster is a shite liar, this is totally a memoir.)</h2></a>
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    <p>I was skeptical of this project to write a chronicle of the founding of New Avalon when Aster first suggested it, but I have to admit, the idea is growing on me. Mostly because it's kind of adorable, looking back at her perspective on everything that was going on back then. If I were writing this thing, I would've started with Thom and Candidus  the night they first considered, in a flight of drunken, teenage fancy, that they could do that whole <em>revolution</em> thing better than Grindelwald and Dumbledore (if only because Candidus wouldn't get cold feet, and if he did, and they got into an epic duel over it with the fate of Europe hanging in the balance, Thom wouldn't hesitate to kill him <em>because love</em>). Aster is <em>clearly</em> just using the founding of New Avalon as an excuse to write a memoir.</p><p>Not that I disapprove — as I mentioned, it's kind of adorable, and looking at these old memories in a pensieve and narrating them ("for posterity, Evans") is <em>fun</em>. Though I do feel I ought to set the record straight on a couple of points, and if this truly is a chronicle of the founding of our little city-state, and "definitely, one-thousand per cent <em>not</em> a bloody memoir, Evans!" so far as I'm concerned Aster has no right to complain if I do. (And maybe also let "posterity" appreciate a different perspective on sixteen-year-old Aster, who is still as adorable as ever but certainly not the most reliable of narrators, and also conveniently out of her office today.)</p><p>First off, gods are <em>not</em> petty arseholes, generally speaking. They're not human, it's entirely unreasonable to expect them to behave like humans. Aster knows this, she's just an enormous <em>brat</em>. The Dark, yes, can be <em>incredibly</em> petty, but I happen to think that this whole plan to get Thom to found a utopia for Her, and thence to serve as a somewhat misleading example of <em>how things could be</em> in a Dark world, was rather mature and well-plotted. (There have been no few attempts to replicate the success of New Avalon over the past several decades — every one of them failing spectacularly, causing massive regional political destabilisation if not outright civil wars throughout the former ICW states, much to Her delight.) Throwing Aster and myself at him and Bella when they started drifting off-track was a bit of long-odds improvisation, but when Fate and Luck conspire...</p><p>(When Death and Mystery demand it of them, even Fate and Luck will fall in line.)</p><p>Secondly, this was <em>not</em> entirely my fault. <em>I</em> wasn't the one who completely flipped on his "best mate" for fucking a girl who couldn't stand him, as though <em>Potter</em> was somehow <em>entitled </em>to my "entirely non-existent" affections. (I do still get a kick out of that description.) I <em>also</em> wasn't the one who thought it would be a great idea to leave the obviously unstable Sirius Black alone with his thoughts in the wake of his failure to get Sev expelled (<em>Dorea</em>), or the one who so turned him against the Blacks in the years leading up to that moment (<em>Walburga</em>), or who cursed him in the first place (<em>Orion</em>).</p><p>(Yes, Aster, if you're still wondering, Orion would have killed you if no one had intervened. But your story had barely begun then, so someone always does. And Orion always curses you, and the Dark always saves you, specifically so that you can undermine the Covenant — because what's the point of having an entire House dedicated to entertaining you if they all get <em>boring?)</em></p><p>I wasn't the one who accidentally impressed an echo of her own self-image on you in the process of rescuing you — that wasn't just Arcturus trying to blame Bella for everything, and you know it — or taught Bella offensive mind arts in the first place despite her having <em>negative</em> aptitude for the subject — the one who shaped the course of Bella's entire life, for that matter, and therefore that of the entire House of Black — or the one who, when his entire world began to crumble around him, decided to acknowledge the Dark again despite renouncing it only months before.</p><p>And why are you acting like responsibility for this entire sequence of events — <em>the one leading up to the founding of our city</em>, remember — is a <em>bad</em> thing, anyway? Really, it's not about <em>assigning blame</em>, but <em>sharing credit</em>. Honestly, if Thom finds out you're trying to pin it on me, I'm sure he'll swoop in and claim all of it.</p><hr/><p>"Evans, don't take this the wrong way, but I might love you!" Black exclaimed, a sly grin erupting on her face as she <em>clearly</em> decided that <em>faking a personality shift</em> in order to <em>trick her best mate into falling for her </em>was the <em>best idea ever</em>.</p><p>That was the sort of shite <em>terrible</em> romantic comedies were made of.</p><p>Lily considered pointing that out, briefly, but then realised that Black had probably never heard of a romantic comedy. "What? You're not— No, that's insane, Black!"</p><p>"Is it? Is it really? I mean, <em>you</em> do it."</p><p><em>Is she</em>... She was pretty sure she was — completely serious. There wasn't even the <em>slightest</em> hint that she thought it was the <em>least</em> bit unreasonable to build a persona <em>especially</em> for <em>James fucking Potter</em> (she would <em>never</em> understand Black's fascination with the toe-rag). But then, she <em>had</em> thought it was a good idea to <em>turn herself into a girl, permanently</em>, for James fucking Potter. Really, doing something like that just because she was <em>curious</em> Lily might understand, but <em>for Potter?</em> The mind boggled. And faking an entirely different personality was <em>way</em> more difficult than suffering through a ritual that couldn't have taken more than a single day — if it had, the timeline wouldn't work out. It required certain qualities Black simply didn't <em>have</em>, like <em>patience</em> and <em>dedication</em>. It was a marathon, not a sprint.</p><p>And even <em>Lily</em> wouldn't make up an entire persona just for <em>one</em> person. What the hell would she do when she came into contact with that person <em>and</em> anyone else at the same time? It was one thing to have one persona she only used with Sev — and when she was going by <em>Asphodel</em>, lurking slightly beyond the edge of polite society down in Knockturn Alley — and one for everyone else, because Sev was <em>entirely aware</em> of what she was doing. He was the one who'd realised it was <em>necessary</em> for her to consciously make an effort to act normal, or at least charmingly eccentric, back when they were about <em>nine</em>. (She'd been slightly offended when he'd suggested it, mostly because she knew he was right as soon as he pointed it out.) Obviously he <em>knew</em> the Lily Evans everyone else knew was fake.</p><p>But the whole <em>point</em> of this was that Black didn't want Potter to realise that she was having him on. Realistically, she'd have to wear that mask all the time, with <em>everyone</em>, and that was just...exhausting. Even Lily couldn't keep up an act <em>all the time</em> for more than a few months. She'd started hating the necessity of having to try before Samhain of her first year.</p><p>And, okay, granted, Black obviously wouldn't have to fake it with <em>her</em>, so she might do a <em>bit</em> better than Lily had — it was really having to play the part literally every waking hour that had made it so unbearable. (She'd resented having to have roommates since they were first shown their dorm. <em>Trying to sleep in a room with six other people...yay.</em>) But that didn't mean it wouldn't drive her mad anyway. She had already obviously been <em>trying</em> to be "good" and live up to Potter's expectations (and those of the Light in general) even when she was Sirius, and in Lily's expert opinion she'd been doing a shite job of it. And that was <em>without </em>trying to add responsible and respectable into the mix.</p><p>"Yeah, but I'm <em>me</em>. Do you even know how to pretend to be ‘good' and responsible?"</p><p>Black flattened her expression into a faintly disapproving mask of boredom, sitting up straight, hands folded loosely in her lap, and crossing her ankles, tucking her feet off to one side. "You seem to be under the impression, Miss Evans, that I <em>didn't</em> spend the better part of my childhood sitting through etiquette lessons with Cousin Narcissa. I'm perfectly aware of the expectations society holds for a lady of my station — with the proper motivation, I'm even capable of meeting them."</p><p>No, she was aware of that. Granted, they tended not to make it quite <em>so</em> obvious most of the time, but it was always there — the way they stood at attention, poised and balanced, even when they didn't think anyone was watching them. A certain air of <em>wariness</em>, almost hidden under their entitled condescension. The way they tended to hesitate before speaking, but never, ever said <em>er</em> or <em>um</em> unless they were being deliberately skeptical. And the way they spoke to each other was practically identical, all barbed quips and obscure quotes (often in foreign languages) implying that the other was an uncultured barbarian or a sex-starved harpy.</p><p>It was just... "Potter doesn't like <em>Cousin Narcissa</em> either, though."</p><p>"He probably would, if she weren't a Slytherin. Or, you know, if she weren't a Slytherin and had a sense of humour," Black said, relaxing her almost sarcastically correct posture and tone.</p><p>"I don't think so. She's too...sharp. Polished. Being a little common and rough around the edges and seemingly unaware of the expectations I'm exceeding is part of the appeal of the façade. The girl you can feel like a rebel for courting, but with the academic and extracurricular qualifications to make her acceptable to your parents despite her lack of pedigree, you know?"</p><p>Even Aster was too polished to really pull that off — she might be more willing to act "common" than Narcissa, but it was always obvious she was doing so deliberately. Even more so than when they were deliberately <em>following</em> the rules. (Lily got the impression both Narcissa and Aster found the prevailing attitudes among the other nobles to be kind of <em>affected</em>.)</p><p>She knew it, too, making a slightly pained face at her, even as she said, "I think I can make it work."</p><p>"I think you're underestimating what a pain in the arse it is to pretend to be someone you're not all the fucking time."</p><p>"I think you're underestimating the degree to which I moderate my behaviour all the time anyway."</p><p>She probably wasn't. Granted, Lily wasn't really <em>sure</em>, but some of the stories Remus had told her over the years — especially in first and second, when he'd been better friends with her than he had been with Potter and Pettigrew (if you asked <em>her</em>, Remus <em>still</em> wasn't <em>that</em> comfortable with Black) — kind of implied that Black was only <em>vaguely</em> aware of what was acceptable outside of her own House. Well, either that or she was talking out of her arse all the time, but somehow Lily didn't think that little firstie Black would've casually mentioned practising Unforgivable curses on house elves to be <em>edgy</em>. Making jokes about human sacrifice and cannibalism <em>now</em>, sure. Remus had been spending more time with Lily again lately complaining about his roommates — she couldn't <em>imagine</em> why — so she'd been hearing more about Black than she generally would. (She hadn't really thought Black was <em>trying</em> to murder Sev — if she had been, she would've set <em>Walters</em> up to take the fall or something, not Remus. Not that Sev or Remus had actually told her what happened, but it wasn't all that difficult to put it together, reading between the lines.) But Black had pretty clearly been trying to <em>distance</em> herself from the Blacks' reputation, even then.</p><p>Casually mentioning that she, Narcissa, and Regulus had considered watching Death Eater recruit training sessions to be some form of entertainment — as though this <em>wasn't</em> deeply disturbing — spoke to a deep, <em>deep</em> gulf between the Blacks' sense of <em>normal</em> and everyone else's.</p><p>Still, she didn't think Black would appreciate her pointing that out. "Honestly, I don't know what you even see in him."</p><p>Black hesitated, obviously torn between the urge to defend her pathetic obsession with Potter, and not wanting to tell Lily something personal. The former won out after a few moments, as Lily had suspected it would. "He's the only person who's ever told me it didn't matter who my family was, or how mad they all are, that he would judge me for <em>me</em>, and meant it. And he believes I can be a better person than I was raised, and just— I need him, okay? I love him, and—" Oh, <em>love</em>, was it? <em>Give me a break</em>... "Stop looking at me like that!"</p><p>Lily had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing — it was just such a <em>stupid</em> reason to be so <em>absurdly</em> devoted to someone. Not <em>being in love</em> (though she was pretty sure Black <em>wasn't)</em>, but Potter's <em>oh so noble </em>resolve to give Black a chance to prove she wasn't as dark and mad and horrible as her family's reputation (even if she <em>totally</em> was). Seriously, <em>not being stupidly prejudiced</em> about someone's family and how they were raised was <em>such</em> a low bar...</p><p>"I have to warn you, Black, you may be in the lead for the Pity Cup right now." Black flipped her off. "Dependence and gratitude aren't the same thing as love, you know."</p><p>"And you <em>would?"</em> Black scoffed. "Are you even capable of love, crazy bitch? <em>Don't </em>try to tell me how I feel."</p><p>That was...a better question than Black was probably aware. Lily was fairly certain she'd never been <em>in</em> love. But until about a month ago, she would have said the way she felt about Sev was love. She hadn't really questioned that assumption until they'd found that mind-melding charm, and she'd experienced how <em>he</em> felt about <em>her</em>.</p><p>She'd been wanting to know what it was like to do legilimency since Sev had admitted he was one, but even though she was (apparently) <em>really</em> good at occlumency for someone who<em> wasn't</em> a mind mage, and <em>hadn't</em> been taught the discipline since she was about <em>four</em>, she didn't seem to be able to quite manage the legilimency charm, especially since Sev tended to instinctively resist it. So they'd been looking for another option for the better part of last term. She'd found the spell over the summer, in a positively ancient book Anomos, the owner of the Nameless Bookshop, had let her read in the back room. (He did that sometimes, when there was <em>no</em> way a person could afford <em>anything</em> in his shop — the underground dark magic community was kind of inconsistent about things like <em>making people pay for shite.</em>) Trying it out when she and Sev had finally made up after the whole <em>fucking Black</em> thing seemed like a good way to reassure both of them that nothing had <em>really</em> changed between them.</p><p>Okay, mostly her, Sev could read her mind any time he wanted — he probably wouldn't have forgiven her if he couldn't. But he humoured her (about most things, really), because he <em>did</em> love <em>her</em>, in a much deeper, slightly disturbing way, valuing her happiness so far above his own it had frankly made her feel a little ill. Especially since <em>she</em> wasn't the one living with an abusive drunk two months out of the year, and a school full of people who thought she made a perfect target for their bullying the other ten, <em>and</em> he had to put up with her being a cold, selfish bitch all the fucking time — which he actually <em>recognised</em>, but completely gave her a pass on because he somehow still managed to think of her as a much better person than she actually...<em>was</em>. And at least <em>part</em> of that was because she'd been doing everything she could to make his life better since they were <em>six</em> and she'd started sharing her lunch with him at school, but part of it was just...something else.</p><p>A warm, soft, almost <em>glowing </em>something that made her look like a bloody angel in his eyes, even when she was explaining that sex was a tool and she'd only fucked Sirius Black to ruin his life, and Sev was thinking that she was still a cold-blooded, bone-deep bitch, but she was also still on <em>his</em> side. He'd been kind of embarrassed about her seeing that memory, presumably because he didn't want her to know how deeply she'd hurt him. (Which <em>had</em> hurt to see — <em>she</em> was the one who <em>protected</em> him, damn it, she hadn't meant to hurt him! Well, not <em>that</em> badly, at least.) But he'd let her, because he knew she needed that reassurance that she really was forgiven, and that was more important to him than his own discomfort.</p><p>Which was (again, presumably) the reason he'd (clearly reluctantly) explained afterward that the way <em>he</em> felt about <em>her</em> was perfectly normal, she was the weird one, thinking that sort of feeling was overwhelming and slightly terrifying...which he <em>also</em> said wasn't what other people were feeling when they said something was <em>terrifying</em>. They'd never really talked before about what was or was not <em>normal</em> for people to feel. He <em>had</em> to have known that she wasn't quite on the same page as everyone else, he could have <em>said</em> something on one of the <em>many</em> occasions she'd exclaimed <em>why are people so stupid, Sev?!</em> But she'd never thought to ask whether her experience of the world around them was the same as everyone else's, she'd just kind of assumed it <em>was</em>, and people just tended to overreact to shite because being all dramatic about everything was fun.</p><p>...But apparently not. She didn't quite believe that the feeling <em>she</em> called "love" (which Sev called <em>I don't know...a sense of proprietary obligation, or responsibility, or something</em>) was completely <em>invalid</em>. It was certainly the strongest emotion<em> she</em> felt, and she'd been dead serious about murdering Black for Sev...who didn't want her to, so she wasn't <em>going</em> to, but she would have, if he'd wanted that fucker dead. (She was clearly already a total headcase, Lily was sure it wouldn't be <em>that</em> hard to convince her that her life wasn't worth living, and wouldn't it just be easier to jump off the Astronomy tower and have done with it?) But she was willing to admit that it wasn't the same feeling most people were talking about when they said "love".</p><p>She <em>wasn't</em> willing to admit it to <em>Black</em>. Instead she just shrugged. "If you were capable of functioning without him, I might think you were really in love. But you're not. That's not love, that's being a codependent <em>mess</em>. And literally every muggleborn in this school has been judging you on your own merits since day one — hard to judge you on your family's reputation when you've never heard of the House of Black. Not that you don't one-thousand per cent live up to your family's reputation anyway, but still."</p><p>"You take that back!"</p><p>Lily didn't even try not to laugh at that. "Oh, is it the mad part or the dark part you're objecting to? Because you turned yourself into a girl and are seriously considering faking a completely different personality for someone who <em>definitely won't appreciate it</em>, and you've apparently been visiting the shops with the Blackheart and asking the bloody <em>Dark Lord</em> to do rituals for you — even if you don't approve of killing children, your sense of morality is obviously more flexible than the Light generally approves of."</p><p>Not that her own <em>wasn't</em>. Though she didn't feel <em>nearly</em> as guilty about that as Black looked. On any of the other Gryffindor girls, the tiny furrow in her brow and narrowing of her eyes, the tension around her mouth, would be barely noticeable, but after five years of watching Sirius Black try not to show it when she managed to get under his skin she knew what <em>all</em> of his trying-not-to-show-it expressions looked like, and becoming <em>Aster</em> Black hadn't changed her reactions in any appreciable way. (It really did strike her as kind of absurd that everyone, even people with no sexual interest in Black whatsoever, was so disturbed by <em>him </em>suddenly becoming <em>her</em>, when <em>everything else</em> about her was the same as it always had been.)</p><p>"At least I'm <em>trying</em>, Evans! Unlike <em>some</em> people I could name!"</p><p>"You have <em>no idea</em> how hard I try, Black," Lily snapped, rage flaring at the presumption. Hadn't she <em>just</em> admitted that she was every bit as much a soulless, manipulative bitch as Black had been insisting for <em>years</em>? She <em>distinctly</em> recalled attempting to build a degree of rapport by revealing that yes, she did spend practically <em>all</em> of her time pretending to be someone she wasn't, not five minutes ago! And she <em>knew</em> Black had heard her, since she'd thought <em>Lily</em> pulling off something like that meant <em>she</em> should give it a shot, they'd <em>just</em>—</p><p>"Trying to intimidate me, Evans?" Black asked, her tone sarcastically sweet. "Because we <em>both</em> know you don't have the power to back up that threat."</p><p>Lily glowered at her. "What the hell are you talking about, Black?"</p><p>"Don't play coy, now." That snide, superior tone made Lily want to <em>strangle</em> her.</p><p>"I didn't <em>threaten</em> you — believe me, you'd know if I had." If she didn't stop acting like a condescending <em>twat</em>, she was going to realise <em>exactly</em> what it sounded like when Lily started threatening her.</p><p>"Yeah, well, how else am I supposed to take you going all glowy-eyed at me?"</p><p>Wait. <em>What?</em> "I repeat: what the hell are you talking about, Black?"</p><p>"Wait, you're serious?"</p><p>"I'm almost always serious." Okay, she took it back, one other thing had changed: Black couldn't make Sirius/serious puns anymore. But that was obviously a plus. "What do you mean <em>glowy-eyed?"</em></p><p>"Ah...like this?" Black said, staring off into the middle distance. Nothing happened for just long enough that Lily was about to say something snarky about that being a stunning example of whatever the fuck she was hallucinating at the moment when a wave of red and violet flames shivered over the other girl's skin, blossoming at her fingertips and racing up her arms — Lily startled, leaning away slightly, even as Black's eyes began to take on an eerie violet glow. She had <em>not</em> been expecting that, okay!</p><p>And she was supposed to have just done something like this? She didn't <em>think</em> so! She <em>definitely</em> would've noticed if she'd <em>set herself on fire</em> a second ago! Even if it was some sort of odd, magical fire. Maybe <em>especially</em> if it was some sort of odd, magical fire. Which it obviously was. It clearly wasn't <em>hurting</em> Black.</p><p>"What the <em>fuck?!"</em> she exclaimed, standing to get a closer look at the flames flickering around her head. She'd never even <em>heard</em> of anything like this. "What are you <em>doing?</em> That's not an illusion, is it?" She didn't <em>think</em> it was. She couldn't say <em>why</em>, it just seemed more <em>substantial</em>, somehow, than an illusion would be.</p><p>"Wait, what?" Black let the effect die before Lily could decide whether it was a good idea to touch the fire. (Usually the answer was <em>no, you idiot, why would you touch the pretty coloured fire</em>, but it clearly hadn't been hurting the other girl, so...)</p><p>"You're not allowed to be confused right now, <em>I'm</em> confused right now! What the hell was <em>that?"</em></p><p>"...Soulfire? Basically a sort of external aura effect, like freeform magic, but just kind of flexing or flaring your magic around you, forcing it to become visible. Usually it only happens when really powerful sorcerers lose control of their power, like back the fuck off because I'm going to bring down the entire building around us if I lose my shite. Obviously you can do it on purpose, too, but the only reason to is if you're trying to be intimidating or show off or whatever. That's what I meant by glowy-eyed, I thought you were doing it on purpose a minute ago."</p><p>"Uh, definitely <em>not</em>, I didn't even know that was a thing you could do. And I'm pretty sure I would've noticed if I were on fucking fire!"</p><p>"I would hope so..." Black giggled. "No, your eyes just went fae for a blink. Doesn't change how anything looks, and soulfire's not hot, either, just feels a little tingly."</p><p>"...Oh. No, I wasn't trying to intimidate you, that would be a bit asinine since we'd both know it was a bluff. My control's just been shot since I finished attuning my magic last spring."</p><p>"A, are you fucking kidding me? And B, <em>finished</em> attuning your magic?"</p><p>Er...right. Black <em>would</em> know about that sort of thing. They probably attuned their kids to the dark at age three or something, and she'd obviously realigned her own over the summer. Which meant she was probably going to think what <em>Lily</em> had done was completely mad. The way the book she'd found had described it, a mage's magic could be polarised toward the dark or the light through a ritual, enhancing your ability to do spells from that end of the spectrum and simultaneously making it more difficult to do magic at the <em>other</em> end of the spectrum. That was the reason that Black, despite being probably the best-trained mage in their class before starting school, and quite possibly the most powerful as well, couldn't cast a Patronus Charm (which wasn't really an OWL spell, but Professor Vane had said it was important to know, and she was the best Defense professor they'd had yet, so they'd all tried to learn it anyway and most of them had gotten at least the incorporeal version down before the end of the year). Hell, her <em>Cheering</em> Charm barely scraped an <em>A</em>. Because her magic was (<em>had been</em>) dark-oriented, she'd had to work twice as hard as any of the rest of them to do proper light magic.</p><p>Lily had a relatively low channeling threshold, as far as she could tell. She <em>knew</em> magic, instinctively, but what she could do with it directly was severely limited by the amount of magic she could draw and shape. There were a couple of ways around that, the most common being subsumation rituals designed to raise your channeling threshold. They were super illegal because they normally involved human sacrifice, specifically of a mage, and the idea of metaphagy tended to freak people out, because what if some evil fucker starts killing people and absorbing their souls and using them to increase their own power, or stop themselves from aging, or all sorts of other neat shite? Besides, Lily hadn't known about them when she'd first started thinking about the problem, so the solution <em>she'd</em> come up with — or, well, the solution that had come to her in a dream, she couldn't take all the credit, though she had had to figure out how to actually do it — was to attune her magic to both the light <em>and</em> the dark, enhancing her connection to magic <em>overall</em>.</p><p>Which was apparently <em>not</em> what Magic had been suggesting she do at all, and was in fact just a very painful, very creative way to (briefly) commit suicide and get told off by Persephone for being a foolishly overconfident idiot child. (Apparently she <em>should</em> have just dedicated herself to Magic, in one of its more encompassing Aspects, like Hecate or Persephone herself. Oops.) In her defense, she hadn't really known much about white and/or black mages back in fourth year (she still wasn't <em>terribly</em> certain what the difference was supposed to be), and when she'd found out about them it hadn't occurred to her that her patron would be able to do something like that for her. (Persephone had called her an idiot again for that — obviously Magic could do <em>anything</em>.)</p><p>It could've been worse, she could've turned herself into a squib. Though she was pretty sure Magic would've intervened there the same way it had waking her up after her little bout of terminal overconfidence.</p><p>But in any case, "You know how it's way easier to slip into accidentally doing polarised magic than unpolarised, if your magic is attuned to one of them?" She began to explain, in answer to Black's silent skepticism "In case you were wondering, attuning yourself to <em>both</em> poles—"</p><p>That was as far as she got before the other girl interrupted. "You did <em>what</em>?!"</p><p>Lily shrugged. "Yeah, that was pretty much Sev's reaction, too." Well, after she'd showed up in his room in the middle of the night demanding he do a full panel of diagnostic charms on her, <em>including</em> the soul analytics, they'd established that she was still a witch even if she couldn't get <em>basic first-year wizardry </em>to work at the moment, and she'd finally explained what she'd done.</p><p>She'd almost failed her OWLs because she'd had to re-learn how to do unpolarised charms and transfiguration in the two months before the exams. Apparently attuning yourself to <em>both </em>ends of the spectrum made the shite in the <em>middle</em> hard to do. Since she <em>still</em> wasn't a very powerful witch and couldn't just brute-force her way through the problem like Black had with Cheering Charms, she'd had to double down on controlling her magic to make her spells more effective, and she'd had to go back to relying on the wand movements and incantations which had been used to reify certain effects rather than sloppy, close-enough point-casting shite. So, she could see how it might <em>appear</em> that her control had gotten <em>better</em>, she was certainly more <em>precise</em> about her casting now, but that was really just because she had to compensate for inverting her affinity for polarised versus unpolarised magic.</p><p>"No fucking <em>shite</em>, Evans, that's <em>insane!</em> Insane by <em>my</em> standards, and I'm a fucking lunatic!"</p><p>She just smirked, shrugged again. "Anyway, it makes it <em>much</em> easier to do light <em>and</em> dark magic, and kind of a pain in the arse to do unpolarised shite. I mean, obviously I <em>can</em>, if I really,<em> really</em> focus, but it's much easier to just cheat on a technical level and edge over into emotionally-guided equivalents. And generally speaking, my magic's been much more emotionally responsive than I'm used to — so yeah, control, shot."</p><p>"<em>Why</em>? Why the fuck would you do something like— You realise that could have turned you into a squib? Burnout <em>is a thing</em>!"</p><p><em>Oh, did you think you were the only mad idiot in the entire school?</em> "Yeah, well, it wasn't <em>my</em> idea. I don't think Magic would have suggested it if I were going to become a squib. I <em>might</em> have died for a couple of minutes, but."</p><p>Black blinked at her for a long moment before repeating, "Magic. Suggested," as skeptically as possible. "Are you actually going to tell me that Magic Itself just, talks to you?"</p><p>Lily...honestly couldn't tell whether she didn't believe her because she didn't think that was a thing, or because she couldn't believe Magic would talk <em>to Lily</em>. "It doesn't really <em>talk</em>, just, sometimes I have dreams that aren't <em>really</em> dreams," she clarified, because yeah, if she was hearing an actual voice telling her it was Magic, that <em>would</em> be kind of weird, and <em>definitely mad</em>. Weird not-quite-dreams weren't <em>nearly</em> as likely to be schizophrenia...she didn't think. "It's kind of hard to describe. And before you say it, <em>yes</em>, I know that sounds insane, it's one of the reasons the other girls don't want to live with me."</p><p>Black almost choked trying not to laugh, and failed anyway. "You— You actually <em>told your roommates</em> that <em>Magic sends you dreams</em>? Why would you do that? No, seriously, why? What the hell were you <em>thinking</em>?"</p><p>Lily glared at her, pointing at herself. "<em>Muggleborn</em>! And I was like, <em>twelve</em>, I didn't know any better! Why wouldn't I think it was perfectly normal for witches to have weird not-dreams sometimes?" She'd actually hesitated for quite some time to tell Cassie about it specifically because of her roommates' reaction. They'd been running around the Forest blowing off steam for <em>months</em> before Cass decided that she wanted to introduce her to Artemis on Imbolc, and Artemis had <em>clearly</em> already known her, though they hadn't really spoken <em>directly</em>, which had required some explanation...</p><p>"Um, yeah, heads-up, that's not normal. Neither is mind-reading or talking to snakes."</p><p>"Wait, really? What about other animals? Why are snakes special?" She knew legilimency was a relatively rare talent, but she and Sev had both been able to talk to animals when they were kids, including snakes. Not that they ever had much interesting to say. They'd decided it was kind of a childish, kiddie bit of magic, as far as such things went, and stopped bothering well before they came to Hogwarts.</p><p>"No, talking to other animals isn't normal either—" <em>Really?</em> Maybe Black didn't get what she was talking about. Obviously they didn't talk back with actual<em> words</em>, but it was <em>pretty fucking clear</em> they understood her, and there was <em>definitely</em> more communication there than just body language. Sure, she could've guessed that Mr. Parsons next door was in trouble when his dog came over to the Evanses' yard all anxious and unaccompanied, but she couldn't have known he'd fallen and hit his head climbing into the bath just from the way Puddles kept trying to lead her back to the house, which she <em>definitely had</em>. "—and snakes are— There's an inherited talent called Parseltongue, probably started with some blood alchemy experiment or snake cult ritual fucking forever ago, it's— Don't change the subject, Evans! I was mocking you for thinking it was a good idea to tell little second-year Light kiddies that you talk to Magic in your dreams."</p><p>"Well, when you put it like <em>that</em> it sounds twee as hell...really, exactly the sort of thing you'd think twelve-year-old witches would talk about."</p><p>"Um, <em>no</em>, see, high magic is really fucking illegal, and talking to gods is generally something only <em>crazy people</em> do. If you tell some random mage on the street that Magic sends you dreams, they're either going to think you're mad, or be vaguely terrified of you, or <em>both</em> — or potentially vaguely terrified and slightly jealous, if you <em>happen</em> to run into a traditionalist who actually<em> believes</em> in the Powers." <em>Which most people don't anymore</em> was heavily implied. Even among the students from ‘Traditional' houses, it was, Lily had found, relatively rare for other people to have a true <em>understanding</em> of Magic. Marlene, for example, had mentioned at one point that her family did Introduction rituals, so she <em>had</em> to have met Magic, but she still thought Lily was bloody mad for thinking it had a will of its own.</p><p>Lily smirked. Something about the way Black said that made her think someone had sat her down at some point to have a Very Serious Talk about Not Talking About Ritual Magic Outside the House. "Yeah? Does that mean you're jealous, then?"</p><p>"No, I think you're mad. Don't get me wrong, I believe you, but this is like, serious black mage shite, you don't just <em>tell people</em>—"</p><p>"Oh, come off it! I refuse to believe I <em>accidentally</em> became a black mage when I was three or something — I've been dreaming about Magic longer than I can remember, you realise, it was giving me ideas of things to try before I even knew I was a witch." Her mother had not been <em>at all</em> surprised when Professor McGonagall showed up on their doorstep to tell them about Hogwarts, the summer Lily turned eleven. Apparently she'd always been a rather <em>odd</em>, "superstitious" child, making little rituals out of everyday life and inventing what she now recognised as a <em>very</em> crude rune-scheme for herself — the only symbol she remembered anymore was <em>luck</em>, she used to draw that on <em>everything</em>, with absolute faith that it <em>did</em> make good things more likely to happen — and knowing things she had no way of knowing. The time she had thrown a <em>massive</em> temper-tantrum, delaying their departure for Dad's parents' house by half an hour because she just <em>knew</em> if they got in the car they were going to die came to mind. As it was, they'd only been stuck in traffic for an extra two hours because of a smash-up on the motorway about twenty miles away. When they'd finally gotten past it, Dad had been all annoyed, because if Lily hadn't been a little brat they could've been past it before it happened, but Mum had been rather shaken, because they might've been <em>exactly there</em>, exactly <em>then</em>, if they'd left when he meant to. "And anyway, it's not <em>dark</em>, it's just <em>magic</em>."</p><p>And she <em>didn't</em> just go around <em>telling people</em> — she'd only told Cassie after Cassie practically admitted that she was dedicated to Artemis (except not really, because <em>commitments, bleh</em>). She'd kind of danced around it with Pandora, because she and Cassie were <em>pretty sure</em> Pandora was dedicated to some Aspect of Innocence, but she never admitted it. Sev knew, of course, because Sev knew <em>everything</em> about her, but aside from them...some people might remember her roommates gossipping about it, back at the beginning of second year, but even by then they'd found her unnerving enough they didn't spread shite about her very often, so she suspected most people had never heard about it, or had long since forgotten. (<em>Black</em> obviously hadn't heard, which suggested no one had talked about it <em>at all</em> outside of their own dorm.)</p><p>"Still the sort of thing that would make most people flip out. You're lucky as hell none of the other girls knew shite about high magic, either — thinking you're weird and unnerving is probably the <em>best</em> possible reaction you could've gotten."</p><p>"Oh, I don't know, this isn't <em>such</em> a bad reaction. I mean, I <em>do</em> know all of that <em>now</em> — I definitely don't need a lecture on whether it's a good idea to just <em>go telling people</em> that Magic talks to me — but I <em>kind of</em> doubt that you're going to turn me in as a black mage, given you've clearly just used high magic to turn yourself into a girl. And at least you believe me, most of them thought I was making shite up for some gods-unknown reason."</p><p>"Of <em>course</em> I believe you, I grew up in the House of Black, worshiping the bloody <em>Dark Itself!</em> I've <em>met</em> our goddess, I <em>know</em> she's real, she's a fucking bitch!"</p><p>Lily sniggered. "Yeah, well, what do you expect from the Dark? I mean, that is the antisocial Dark that people are referring to when they talk about someone having a dark personality, right? Not the one-half-of-the-Balance, arbitrarily-pick-one-extreme-in-each-dyad-to-call-'dark' Dark?" She was pretty sure it was, the House of Black wouldn't have the reputation it did if it actually followed the <em>pro-social</em> Dark.</p><p>"<em>Yes.</em> If you want to ridiculously oversimplify <em>literally everything</em>, but...basically. You'd fit <em>right</em> in with my family, Evans. And that's <em>not</em> a compliment."</p><p>"From any other Black it would be, though, so I'm going to go ahead and take it as one," she said, with an intentionally obnoxious degree of cheerfulness. "So, if you won't tell me how you did it, will you at least tell me what it's like?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>Oh, that was kind of a non-sequitur, wasn't it? She'd just remembered that Black had said how she'd become a girl was a family secret — completely ridiculous, it was <em>obviously</em> high ritual, and she'd <em>admitted</em> that Bellatrix and de Mort were involved, it wasn't as though telling her which Aspect they'd called on and what Black had offered in exchange was revealing <em>much</em> more. "Being a girl, now. What's it like?"</p><p>"Well, <em>becoming</em> a girl hurts like fucking hell, actually," Black said, sounding oddly <em>indignant</em> about it.</p><p>Lily felt her lips twitch in an involuntary smirk. "Did you actually expect it <em>not</em> to?"</p><p>"Well, <em>no</em>, but it was definitely the most painful thing that's ever happened to me, including realigning my magic <em>and </em>being put under the Cruciatus."</p><p>Lily winced. She'd never been hit with the Cruciatus — never seen anyone <em>cast</em> any of the Unforgivables, even — but magical backlash was bad enough, and she suspected that simultaneously attempting to realign her magic to the dark <em>and</em> hold onto the light had probably hurt more than <em>just</em> realigning her magic, so she wasn't sure how that would compare, but she wouldn't expect <em>any</em> ritual alteration of one's fundamental identity <em>not</em> to hurt. Especially if the Dark was involved. Not that Black had admitted that it <em>was</em>, but it <em>was</em> their familial deity, and Black<em> was</em> still connected to her family magic. It was hard to describe, but she got an odd sense around some of the kids from the older houses that they were a really small part of something <em>much</em> greater than themselves, and while the <em>tenor</em> of Black's magic had changed over the summer, Lily's sense that she was still part of that larger magic hadn't. So it would be kind of weird if the Dark had <em>let</em> anyone else play around with the body and soul of one of <em>its</em> humans.</p><p>"Yeah, well, I heard somewhere that the Dark's a fucking bitch. But I actually meant, does it feel different, being a girl? I've always kind of wondered."</p><p>Specifically, she'd kind of wondered occasionally what it would be like to be a boy since she and Sev were nine, and she'd let him (practically forced him to, actually) spend a week sleeping in her bed rather than at his awful parents' house, and Dad had hit the roof when he found out, because <em>he's a boy, Lily!</em> (Which obviously she'd <em>known</em>, but she'd...never really considered it that important before?) Yes, she and Sev had done the mind-melding charm, but she'd been kind of preoccupied by all the weird emotional shite, and besides, that was what it felt like <em>to be Sev</em>, not what it would feel like to be a male version of herself. Black was the only person she knew who had first-hand experience of being the male and female version of the same person.</p><p>"No, it doesn't. I think maybe it's supposed to, Jamie certainly thinks it should, and the bloody mind-healer—"</p><p>"They made you talk to a mind-healer because you turned yourself into a girl?" Lily asked, trying not to sound as <em>completely outraged</em> as she actually was, because even if Black hadn't been trying to get Sev killed, everyone else seemed to <em>think </em>she had. Black's little identity crisis was <em>not</em> more demanding of talking to a mind-reading shrink than <em>trying to kill someone</em>.</p><p>Aster glowered at her. "<em>No</em>. I did <em>apparently</em> try to murder someone via proxy first, if you recall. Normal people consider that to be an indication of a certain degree of <em>being a crazy person</em>." Oh. Well. Good. Would it have killed Dumbledore to tell Sev that Black was getting some form of punishment as well? (Stupid question, of course it would.) "Anyway, the mind-healer kept yammering on about some ‘gender identity' dragonshite. I don't get it. I <em>really</em> don't."</p><p>"Yeah, well, you always have been kind of...effeminate. Not surprised you're comfortable being a girl."</p><p>"Not like I wasn't comfortable being a boy, though. This just...seemed like a good idea at the time. And quite honestly, even if I did want to change back, I'd have to want it a <em>hell</em> of a lot more than I wanted to become a girl in the first place, now that I know how much it hurts."</p><p>"So, really the only difference is being a bit shorter?" That was somehow...disappointing. Everyone acted like whether you were a boy or a girl mattered a lot, after all, she'd kind of thought it would have to feel <em>obviously different</em>...</p><p>"Well, I mean, there's that, and the shape of my face is a little different. My hips are a little wider and my legs proportionally longer — completely threw off my centre of gravity for a bit, there. My voice is higher, obviously, and I probably don't have the upper body strength to play beater, anymore. Takes longer to come as a girl," she added, completely matter of fact about it, which startled a snort of laughter out of Lily. Obviously the whole genital inversion thing <em>would</em> be the biggest physical change, she guessed, it was just, she couldn't really imagine <em>anyone</em> else just <em>coming out and saying that</em>. Which Black presumably realised, because rather than elaborating, she shrugged and added, with a vaguely distracted smirk, "Though, on the plus side, no random public boners."</p><p>Lily couldn't decide whether that was a suggestion that <em>were</em> she still a boy Black would <em>have</em> a (totally not actually random) boner for her right now, and if so whether it was intentional. It was pretty fucking clear she wanted to have another go, almost as much as she wanted to throttle Lily for intentionally ruining her friendship with Potter and unintentionally shoving her into the deep end of the crazy pool. (Or both — Black hadn't hated Lily <em>nearly</em> as much before they'd shagged, and they'd still been rough enough to leave her bruised and aching for <em>days</em>. Not that that was a <em>bad </em>thing, Lily didn't think she'd ever been fucked with that sort of wild abandon and raw <em>need</em> before, no consideration of her comfort or the fact that they were in public surrounded by other people, or any consequences beyond the moment... She'd be lying if she said it hadn't been hot as hell.) Sev said it shouldn't be <em>that</em> surprising, Black was hardly <em>stable</em>, but Lily had kind of seriously underestimated how dependent she was on Potter. In hindsight, breaking their relationship was kind of a <em>major</em> escalation over humiliating Sev by the lake, but that didn't mean she was going to apologise.</p><p>It <em>did</em> mean maybe she wouldn't be <em>quite</em> as much of a bitch as she could be, here. They did, after all, have to live together. And while she didn't doubt that they would eventually end up sleeping together again — the sexual tension in here was practically <em>palpable</em>, and Lily had enjoyed that little seduction at least as much as Black (and she had been sober enough she actually <em>remembered</em> it) —  it probably wasn't a great idea to push for round two <em>too</em> quickly.</p><p>"Yeah, but on the minus side, have you had a period, yet?" Unless Black was into some really weird shite, that should be sufficiently non-sexual for her to escape the little innuendo-laden area of potential flirting they'd been edging dangerously close to.</p><p>"Nope. Not planning on it."</p><p>Wait. <em>What?</em> Another startled giggle escaped her. "I don't think you get a choice. Unless, wait, witches don't have some way to avoid that that no one's mentioned to me, have they?"</p><p>Now it was Black's turn to laugh. "Of <em>course</em> we do. I mean, not if you want to, you know, have babies, but Bella cursed me so I shouldn't have to worry about either one for a few years."</p><p>Lily gaped at her. She couldn't help it. "Sounds great. What's the catch?"</p><p>"I...don't think there is one? I assume Bella wouldn't have done it if there <em>were</em>. Granted, it's a <em>curse</em>, it's not <em>meant</em> to be used for birth control <em>or</em> avoiding the nasty, miserable part of being a girl, but, in the words of famed cursebreaker Ciardha Monroe, <em>improvisation</em> is meant for whatever it works for. And I'm fine with not having babies <em>or</em> bleeding, so."</p><p>Well, if <em>that</em> was the case, sign Lily up. <em>"Jealous</em>! What curse? Can you do it for me? Periods <em>suck</em>, they're the worst part of being female, hands down."</p><p>"I don't know." Lily gave her her best puppy-dog eyes — <em>Please, please, pretty please with sugar on top?</em> "No, seriously, I don't know. Cissy probably would, but I wouldn't actually trust her to let her curse me, if I were you—" She winced — she wouldn't either. "—and I also <em>really</em> don't know if other people use it, might be one of those things that the House of Black does that everyone else would think is completely <em>mad</em>, you know? Or even something <em>Bella</em> does that even the rest of the House thinks is insane."</p><p>Lily pouted at her, suddenly distracted by a morbid curiosity about what other things the Blackheart was known to do that even the rest of her notoriously insane house considered mad. <em>"Tch</em>, <em>fine</em>, I'll ask Pomfrey. I mean, she didn't mention anything like that when I asked her about birth control a couple of years ago, but that might just be because advising thirteen-year-olds to go get themselves cursed is probably some kind of malpractice. But I can probably convince her to tell me the name of the bloody thing and look it up myself. Oh!"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Speaking of names, and things that are different now, what's yours?"</p><p>"What?" Black repeated.</p><p>"Your name, so I can add you as an exception to the wards," she said, flicking her fingers up at the walls. She could <em>probably</em> do it without a name, assuming she could snag a loose hair or something, but a name was easier, especially since Black was probably the most paranoid person Lily had ever met when it came to not leaving traces of herself to be exploited by a creative witch.</p><p>"Aster. You <em>have</em> to have heard Remy calling me that, at least."</p><p>"Well, yeah, but that's not a Black name, I figured it was short for something."</p><p>"Narcissa's named after a flower," Black pointed out. Narcissa was also a bastard, and fairly obviously so, if she was compared to <em>literally any</em> of the other Blacks. "It's short for Asteria. <em>Bellatrix</em> Asteria, if you must know, because de Mort thinks he's funny."</p><p>Lily bit her lip trying not to giggle. She wasn't sure what about it tickled her so much — maybe the fact that "Aster" was going along with it even though she could quite reasonably have chosen a <em>different</em> name for herself, or maybe her little pout as she admitted it. Or maybe just that there <em>was</em> something inherently funny about naming someone after someone they looked exactly like. Especially since Black <em>clearly</em> still looked up to the Blackheart, even if she didn't want to admit it. "You <em>did</em> say you look practically identical now, right?"</p><p>"Yes," she admitted sourly. "And giving us the same name too isn't creepy <em>at all</em>." She pulled a face before explaining, "They've been together since she was younger than I am now."</p><p>Wait, really? Yeah, okay, maybe that was kind of creepy. In which case, Lily thought it was probably funny because the fucking <em>Dark Lord</em> had to know it would make Black uncomfortable, and also because Black was going along with it despite obviously thinking it was super creepy. "Well, he <em>is</em> a Dark Lord, isn't <em>creepy</em> somewhere in the job description?"</p><p>Apparently that touched a nerve. Black scowled. "If it's not, it should be, snake-faced fucker's just... Okay, first off, he's a legilimens, and <em>stupidly</em> powerful, so he's almost <em>always</em> listening to your thoughts, which he won't admit if you're at some Family dinner thinking, like, Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters are the tweest names ever, but if it's just his people around, he sometimes just goes responding to shite you're thinking rather than waiting for you to talk. And did I mention the snake thing? I'm not sure, but I think he might think he should actually <em>be</em> a snake. Like, on my honour, McKinnon, that's the mind-healer, kept going on about people feeling like their body isn't right or doesn't match their identity or whatever, and that's why <em>most</em> people get sex changes — <em>i.e.</em>, not on a bloody lark — and all I could think about was fucking de Mort using blood alchemy or whatever to make himself look all snakey. Clearly his gender is <em>snake</em>."</p><p>Okay, there was a lot to comment on there, from Black having <em>family dinners</em> with the Dark Lord (it was weird to think he'd been around...presumably her entire life, if he'd been with Bellatrix since she was fifteen or sixteen...which would itself be creepier if Lily didn't know almost all of the purebloods started arranging betrothals by that age), to his being a <em>rude</em> legilimens (Sev, at least, was very uncomfortable about the idea of just reading people's minds all the time for no reason), to Black getting away with calling the fucking Dark Lord <em>twee</em>, <em>to his face</em>, but she was laughing too hard to say any of that, because, "I– I don't think— That's not how gender works," she managed to choke out, "<em>snake</em> is not a gender."</p><p>Black rolled her eyes. "Well, then, how <em>does</em> it work? I'd really like to know!" Something in her tone, some hint of suppressed frustration, suggested that that was actually a serious question.</p><p>A serious question Lily herself didn't <em>really</em> know the answer to. She shrugged. "I've always thought it was mostly about the expectations other people have for you and how you're supposed to act in different situations." And, you know, <em>life in general</em>. "There is no set of expectations for <em>snake</em>, so it <em>can't</em> be a gender."</p><p>Black scoffed. "Well, makes more sense than having some innate sense of maleness or femaleness, at least. But I'm pretty sure that means <em>House of Black</em> is a gender, because society as a whole definitely holds different expectations for us than anyone else, so I'm guessing you don't really know either. At this point, I'm about completely convinced the whole concept is made up. And anyway, that's the whole reason he wants to be a snake, so he doesn't have to deal with human social expectations."</p><p>Lily let the <em>I'm guessing you don't know either</em> comment go, because...well, she wasn't <em>wrong</em>. She was positive that ‘snake' wasn't a gender, though. "Still not a gender. Also, isn't that just a Dark Lord thing? Doing whatever you want and fucking expectations and the status quo in general?"</p><p>"Yeah, okay, point taken, I guess he wouldn't need to be a snake for that. But the snake thing is still creepy as fuck. And some of the shite he and Bella get up to — when Zee and I got there, he was cutting a design into her back, just as, I don't know, some twisted sort of art? Maybe foreplay? I have no idea. I mean, he <em>could</em> have made the same design with transfiguration or something, so he obviously wanted it to hurt, but if he <em>just</em> wanted to hurt her he could have just flayed her without making pretty patterns out of it."</p><p>It...probably wasn't a good idea to say that the appeal seemed obvious to her. Just being in a position where one of the most dangerous people in Britain <em>let you</em> hurt them seemed like it would be kind of gratifying. (Probably even if you were a fucking Dark Lord, and <em>also</em> one of the most dangerous people in Britain.) Black <em>had</em> said it herself that it could have been foreplay, so presumably they were into shite like that. And if you were doing something for fun, why <em>not</em> make it pretty?</p><p>"And he's a terrible fucking person, okay, like, makes you murder someone to get into his little club and then makes you swear fealty to him so you can never leave <em>evil</em>, but then he's just <em>randomly nice</em> sometimes, like, he just wanted copies of a couple of memories for helping me with <em>this</em>—" She gestured at herself. "—and I'm like...ninety-six per cent sure that afterward he tucked me into bed — <em>his</em> bed, he doesn't have a guest room, probably because he doesn't ever have <em>guests</em> — and said <em>you did good, kid</em>, which is both <em>incredibly weird</em> and <em>incredibly creepy</em>, because de Mort's been around literally my entire life, and I have <em>never</em> heard him say anything <em>encouraging</em> to anyone. <em>Ever</em>."</p><p>Lily thought she might be missing something. "Is that <em>really</em> weird, though? I mean, you <em>are</em> kind of like his girlfriend's kid, right? Why shouldn't he be nice to you?"</p><p>"Because he doesn't have a reason <em>to</em> be nice! Bella's not nice <em>either</em>. Niceness itself is suspect! And I'm definitely telling Bella you called her <em>de Mort's girlfriend</em>, and old enough to be my mother."</p><p>Wasn't she, though? Granted, she might've been misinterpreting the little hints about their family dynamic Narcissa had let slip over the course of their oddly stilted almost-friendship back in first and second years. She'd certainly missed (at the time) that Cissa seized on the first excuse to break off their relationship because she was actually starting to <em>like</em> Lily. (In her defense, it had been a bit difficult to imagine why anyone would <em>want </em>to dislike someone. It had taken Sev years to convince her that was a thing.)</p><p>Anyway, she'd gotten the impression, back when she was passing letters to Andromeda for Narcissa and Cissa was giving her a crash course in <em>not acting like a mudblood</em>, that while Bellatrix <em>was</em> her sister she was <em>much</em> older — maybe not enough to <em>literally</em> be her mother, but enough that she had been more or less a parent to Cissa (and Regulus, and Sirius, though he'd never liked admitting it) pretty much as long as she could remember. In fact, Lily had gotten the impression that Narcissa's <em>actual</em> parents were kind of awful. She'd lived with <em>Sirius's</em> family for a few years before Bellatrix had left school, and then with Bella until <em>she'd</em> come to school. And while the Blacks were very good at not actually telling anyone what happened behind the doors of their fabulously extravagant manors, Cissa reverted to being so stiff and overly formal whenever she strayed too close to an uncomfortable topic it hadn't been hard to figure out that her mother was never around (she might live in France?) and her father (whose mysterious disappearance when Cissa was nine was <em>not</em> on the table for discussion) had been worse than Sev's. Bellatrix might be a harsh teacher with insane standards and expectations — all of the wanna-be Death Eaters agreed on that, according to Sev — but she was pretty much the only adult any of the Blacks actually looked up to.</p><p>Also completely mad — apparently she was <em>friends</em> with <em>Fenrir Greyback</em> — and completely terrifying — Amy Bones told her once that, according to her father, Bellatrix had killed at least one person <em>before starting school</em>, and Lily seriously doubted she would be <em>training Baby Death Eaters</em> if she <em>wasn't</em> a scary-competent fighter. But none of the Blacks or Rosiers had a bad thing to say about the way she treated her younger cousins. Most of them could be downright defensive when anyone said a bad word about her.</p><p>She shrugged. "Blame Narcissa." (And Reggie, and Evan...) "She always talked about her like she was <em>way</em> older, practically a parent to her. And they're not married, are they? What else would I call their relationship?"</p><p>"When did you talk to Narcissa about Bellatrix?" Black demanded, sounding slightly affronted, as though she couldn't imagine they were on speaking terms, which was a bit silly — aside from their 'business' relationship back in first and second years, they <em>did</em> occasionally have to talk to each other as prefects, and the number of students who actually <em>believed</em> in the Powers was kind of <em>tiny</em>. Lily was on speaking terms with <em>all</em> of them, because they had their interest in organising the school holiday rituals in common, if nothing else.</p><p>"First year, mostly. I doubt she would've given me the time of day if she hadn't been in such a vulnerable state over Andromeda leaving, but." She shrugged. She wouldn't have been able to find an in with Cissa in the first place if Black hadn't mentioned his older cousin running away over the summer a few weeks into their first year. "Are you going to answer my question?"</p><p>"Well, they're definitely not courting, which is kind of the only equivalent we have for <em>dating</em>," Black explained, after a brief moment of confusion. "And no, they're not married, she's engaged to the Lestranges' heir. <em>Consort</em> is probably the best term. And she's only nine years older than me and Cissy. She <em>did</em> arguably have more of a hand in raising Cissy than Auntie Dru, but she's not really anything like a <em>parent</em>..." She trailed off, trying to think how to explain the Dark Lady's role in her younger cousins' life, if Lily had to guess.</p><p>"But she takes care of you. I know she does."</p><p>Black scoffed. "Yeah, but <em>parents don't.</em> Did Cissy tell you Bella killed their father for raping Andromeda?" Lily couldn't help a tiny gasp, more out of surprise that Black would just out and <em>tell her that</em> than anything, but it <em>was</em> somewhat shocking. Black smirked. "Yeah, Cissy and Meda got to watch. He used to use the Imperius on Bella all the time too, so he'd had it coming for <em>years</em>. <em>My</em> father almost killed <em>me </em>when I was seven — Bella did some impossible black magic healing shite to save me — and nothing any of us do is <em>ever</em> enough for <em>any</em> of them. Reggie and Cissy are the <em>good</em> kids, and even <em>they</em> aren't good enough. Auntie Dru <em>hates</em> children — likes to pretend hers don't exist. Bella and Meda didn't trust her to protect Cissy from Cygnus when she was <em>five</em>, and Orion's even harder on Reg than he was on me, specifically <em>because</em> Reg actually tries to be everything they want in a son — he's <em>too compliant</em>."</p><p>"Are you...supposed to tell me this?" Lily asked, slightly stunned. It just seemed like...those weren't the sort of things people <em>talked about</em>. And especially not with people they <em>didn't trust</em>.</p><p>Black smirked at her. "No. But I can't say I really care much about the reputation of the House of Black anymore, and anyway, the Aurors are under the impression that Cygnus got himself sucked out of the universe fucking about with Demonic Congress, because Arcturus wasn't going to let them drag the House over the coals for <em>him</em>."</p><p>"I see," Lily said, trying not to smirk back. "So...what was the illegal black magic healing thing?" Because <em>most</em> healing rituals were illegal, especially if you weren't licensed to perform them, but <em>most</em> of them were <em>white</em> magic. She didn't actually <em>know</em> any black healing magic, which suddenly seemed like a <em>terrible</em> oversight.</p><p>Black shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure Bella didn't just make it up on the spot — calling the Dark to burn out the soul-rotting curse Orion used on me and re-establish my fundamental identity. Does it matter?"</p><p>Well, not if that was all Black could tell her about it, because that was as close to useless as it was possible to get, as far as a ritual description went. She sighed. "No, I guess not. You were telling me how Bellatrix doing things like that <em>isn't</em> totally parental behaviour...?" she reminded the other girl.</p><p>Black rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, see, doing shite like <em>using a soul-rotting curse on your own son</em> is <em>parental</em> behaviour. Bella's the First Daughter of the House."</p><p>Lily couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. "Like Amy?" She and Amelia weren't <em>great</em> friends, but enough that she'd heard the Hufflepuff complain on multiple occasions about having to teach her baby cousins basic magic-sensing exercises and such over hols.</p><p>"Well, <em>no</em>, the Boneses aren't <em>nearly</em> as fucked up as the Blacks. The actual <em>job</em> is to look out for the younger kids and their interests, teach them shite they need to know and stand up to their parents and Head of House if they have some problem with them. Amy probably only has to give them pointers on elementary charms and shite, maybe keep an eye out for them when they get to Hogwarts. Bella, on the other hand, well, when <em>don't</em> kids in the House of Black have problems with their parents?"</p><p>"You can't <em>all</em> hate each other."</p><p>"We <em>don't</em>. We tend to like our cousins and siblings, even aunts and uncles." Lily smirked at that. Black rolled her eyes, probably aware of exactly what she was thinking: that they often liked their cousins and siblings just a bit more than was socially acceptable, even — Black Incest Jokes were kind of a <em>thing</em>. "It's just... Dorea likes to say selfish, short-sighted, domineering people tend to raise resourceful, devious, independent children who hate them. And Arcturus is a shite Head of House, completely useless. No one else has ever gone out of their way to take care of us, so a lot of responsibility — especially for me, Cissy, and Reg — ended up falling to Bella. And most people only end up being the First Child for a few years, in their late teens. We had a bit of a generation gap, so Bella's been ours since she was eight, I think? Officially.</p><p><em>"Unofficially</em>, she's been taking care of her sisters since she and Meda were still in the Nursery. If I <em>had</em> to compare her role to the way <em>other</em> families do things, she'd be kind of like an aunt, you know, easier to talk to because she doesn't have direct <em>authority</em> over us and never seriously hurt us, and kind of like a godmother because she has some say on the way we're being raised, shite we're taught, and so on. She actually <em>did</em> a lot of teaching when we were kids, she's old enough she'd left school and was around for a couple of years before Cissy started. She advocates for us with Arcturus and has the authority and obligation to intervene and defend us if our parents are totally out of line."</p><p>"And they just...listen to her?"</p><p>"Well, they have pretty much as long as I can remember, but she's been a Death Eater since she was <em>fifteen</em>. There might be some violent bastards in the House, and powerful ones at that, but none of them are really trained battlemages. If they refused to take her seriously and she called for an honour duel over it, she could probably have killed any one of them, even then. At this point, she's the most powerful mage in the House, <em>and</em> the best-trained fighter, plus, you know, being a fucking Dark Lady — they'd have to be fucking <em>stupid</em> to ignore her."</p><p>"Yeah, but you said she's been doing this since she was a little kid. You're telling me your Head of House would have listened to an eight-year-old if she said one of her aunts or uncles was being an abusive cunt?"</p><p>"Well, <em>no</em>, but that never really stopped her trying to intervene directly — mostly on Andromeda's behalf, I don't think she had much contact with the more distant cousins at that age. Even after she learned to resist the Imperius, Cygnus, her father, kicked the shite out of her and raped her pretty fucking regularly <em>until</em> she was fifteen or so." Lily felt her eyes go wide at that. Somehow she just couldn't imagine the woman all the Slytherins talked about like some kind of legendary warrior queen being <em>raped by her father</em>. Black snorted. "That's not a <em>secret</em>, Evans. It's not a weakness to admit you've been violated if you've also killed the person who did it. The fact that she took the beatings so Andromeda and Narcissa wouldn't have to made her a fucking hero when we were little. Yeah, she's a twisted, evil bitch, and completely fucking mad, but she's the only adult in the House who ever really gave a shite about us.</p><p>"Obviously she has to <em>know</em> that they're being abusive cunts to actually <em>do</em> something about it, and there's a <em>much</em> higher threshold for what counts as <em>abuse</em> in my family — if I told her Walburga used the Cruciatus on me over the summer, she'd probably tell me I've come into my power and Walburga's not exactly a top-tier battlemage, I can curse the shite out of her myself if I care so much. But she's the one who took care of us when we were little and <em>couldn't</em> take care of ourselves, and she's also the person we'd go to if we needed advice about sex, or what NEWTs to take, or how to manage being a crazy person...which makes it awfully hard to remember sometimes that she tortures and kills people for fun. Like I said, complicated."</p><p>Lily winced, mostly because, yeah, she could see how it would be hard to believe the person who cared most about you in the world was actually a terrible person. Like, if she were to find out her dad was a serial killer, or something. She <em>wanted</em> to say she'd disown him as the scum of humanity and turn him in to the police...but she probably wouldn't. They had their differences, yes (mostly about Sev), but she knew he only wanted what was best for her. (Which meant <em>not</em> letting <em>that Snape boy</em> drag her back down into a life of poverty and misery like his father did to his mother. As though that was even possible.) And he loved her, she knew he did. He'd never hurt <em>her</em>, or anyone she cared about (even Sev...at least physically). And that meant a lot more to her than if he were killing some hypothetical strangers she'd never met.</p><p>After all, it'd have nothing to do with <em>her</em>.</p><p>"Yeah, okay, but I'm going to just go ahead and think of her as kind of your mum," she said...mostly because she had to say <em>something</em>, and she wasn't about to tell Black that it seemed perfectly reasonable to her not to care that Bellatrix tortured and killed people for fun. Even she knew there was a line there, honestly!</p><p>Black rolled her eyes. "Older sister would be closer."</p><p>"Not in a non-fucked-up family. That's very mumsy sort of shite in my book. Not that I'd actually talk to <em>my</em> mother for advice on any of that, of course."</p><p>That was actually a bit of a laugh, the thought of talking to her mum about her love life or career prospects. How would that even go? Her sex life had come up before — she'd stupidly mentioned something about Cassie, forgetting that shagging girls wasn't <em>nearly</em> as acceptable in Mum's world — and that had gone badly enough she'd begged Sev to just make Mum forget they'd talked about it at all. Adding in, <em>yeah, so what is this </em>love<em> thing, exactly?</em> didn't seem likely to make it <em>easier</em>. And the idea of Mum having any relevant opinion on her career was laughable. She didn't even know what the potential options were! And even if she were to convert them into muggle terms...sad as it was to say, Mum probably didn't know <em>Lily</em> well enough to comment, either. How would <em>she</em> know if Lily was more suited to be a doctor or a research scientist or a detective?</p><p>They'd barely talked about anything important in <em>years</em>, because things that were important to Lily tended to be weird and vaguely unsettling even for people who were used to magic. She was <em>sure</em> she wasn't much like the little girl they'd known before she started school. Mostly because she couldn't force herself to really, <em>actually</em> care whether people who held no real power over her thought she was weird and disturbing and possibly dangerous, but that didn't mean she <em>wanted</em> to disillusion them about their daughter being a bit mad. They <em>were</em> her family, she cared enough to not want to <em>hurt</em> them, and she was pretty sure being honest enough with them that they could help advise her on career choices would. (It wasn't like she hadn't <em>tried</em>, Sev had had to make them forget <em>several</em> conversations the summer before last.)</p><p>...It probably also wasn't a good idea to admit that she was a little jealous Black had someone she could ask for advice on being a crazy person. Lily and Sev were kind of just...muddling through, trying not to draw <em>too</em> much attention to themselves. Or rather, trying to avoid Lily drawing too much attention to them — Sev was really very good at flying below the radar. Though it probably helped he wasn't nearly as...<em>off</em> as Lily, <em>and</em> he could cheat and read people's minds to figure out if he'd said something too dark or weird or whatever. (Lucky bastard.)</p><p>"It's still kind of mumsy, though, protecting her kids and you know, <em>raising</em> them."</p><p>"Yeah, but we <em>are</em> fucked up, and I'm telling you, parent-child relationships in my House are antagonistic at best. Their job is to turn you into a good, obedient little Black, even if that means they have to fucking <em>break</em> you. Which it <em>does</em>, because we're not <em>bred</em> to be obedient. They're the fucking <em>enemy</em>, okay?"</p><p>Lily raised her hands in a gesture of surrender, biting her tongue to keep from commenting on the idea that the Blacks <em>weren't bred for obedience</em> — what were they? fucking <em>horses</em>?</p><p>It did very little to calm Black, though she <em>did</em> sound slightly less hysterical as she continued, "And even if they <em>weren't</em>, like in <em>normal</em> families, the idea of a mum is more...hierarchical than whatever Bella is to me and Cissy. And Reggie, but he's always kind of managed to sneak by hiding in our shadows, so Bella didn't have to do as much for him. She doesn't have authority over us, like legally or socially or whatever, she's not responsible for me, really, or, well, not outside the House, at least. I mean, no one insists I <em>have to</em> do what she tells me to, like they have all my life with Arcturus and Walburga, and even Dorea.</p><p>"Honestly, all of <em>them</em>, the adults, <em>parents</em>, would probably prefer none of us kids ever did anything Bella told us to, but every single one of us would pick her over <em>them</em>, because unlike <em>them</em>, she has our respect. She's <em>earned</em> it. If it comes down to it, yeah, she's the oldest of us, and the most powerful, but she wasn't always <em>Lady Blackheart</em>, and the fact that she was probably going to get the shite kicked out of her never stopped her standing up for the people she was duty-bound to protect. Which is the sort of thing we've been taught to expect from a <em>real</em> lord, one worthy of our loyalty, since we were old enough to talk.</p><p>"It's really, <em>really</em> not a surprise that all of my cousins — and the Rosiers, they're her cousins on her mother's side — support the Death Eaters even though Arcturus fucking hates de Mort. He actually <em>forbade</em> Nash and Danny to take the Mark, and they <em>did it anyway</em>. Because if it came down to it, <em>every</em> Black who's younger than her would support Bella just fucking executing Arcturus and taking over as the Head of the House."</p><p>Lily raised an eyebrow at that. She knew it was a big deal, a member of a noble house basically telling their lord to piss off. She <em>almost</em> thought that kind of implied Bellatrix was <em>already</em> their <em>actual</em> Head of House. Also, "Your Head of House opposes the Death Eaters? I thought all the Dark houses were kind of tacitly supporting them, even if they won't admit it in public. That's the impression Sev's gotten, at least."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. An Adventure in Muggleland</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What the hell, Evans! First off, you said you weren't interested in helping with the Chronicle, and secondly, piss off, we both know this is about you just being nosey. And you're just as unreliable a narrator as I am. <em>Oh, poor Evans, little baby sociopath all confused about her</em> feelings<em>...</em></p><p>(Give me a fucking break. We both know you haven't got any.)</p><p>And I'm not saying you were responsible for everything that led up to the founding of the city, just the bad, painful parts of those few months of <em>my</em> life. Because you were. Because you're an evil, selfish bitch like that.</p><p>Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a history to write.</p><p>Which is <em>not</em> a memoir, kindly go fuck yourself.</p><hr/><p>"That's the impression Sev's gotten, at least."</p><p>Yeah, well, Snivels had probably gotten that impression from the people trying to recruit him — of <em>course</em> they'd try to make themselves seem more influential than they actually were. "All the Dark houses are letting or even <em>encouraging </em>one or two of their more hot-headed kids to join up because they're hedging their bets. You know, just in case Bella and de Mort get tired of playing games and just fucking take over Britain. <em>Most</em> of the Dark houses support <em>some</em> sort of Dark Revolution, and there are a few fringe Houses that support de Mort's talking points, or I guess what we're told are their talking points — I didn't even know there <em>was</em> a Manifesto — but <em>none</em> of them want de Mort to blatantly flout the Wizengamot's authority — and worse, <em>do so successfully</em>. Kind of undermines their power, you know? But they, the Dark houses, don't really have anyone to rally around to make a concerted effort to dismantle the organisation. Arcturus <em>would</em> be the natural choice, he <em>used</em> to be a powerful warrior and he's fought Dark Lords before, except he's completely useless these days, and Bella would slaughter him."</p><p>Obviously there were <em>so many</em> problems with Dumbledore as a rallying figure that they wouldn't even <em>consider</em> building a circle around <em>him</em> — even if he <em>was</em> the only private citizen attempting to organise a resistance group, he was even more useless than <em>Arcturus</em>. And he'd probably shit himself if the Dark houses decided they were going to take over his Order of the Phoenix and turn them into an <em>effective</em> fighting force.</p><p>"And, well, as far as civil wars go, this one isn't really <em>that</em> disruptive. Most of the commoners aren't involved at all, really, so the more populist Houses don't really give a shite. I mean, yeah, there are commoners in the Death Eaters and the Aurory, but they're not killing each other in the streets like they would be if it were the Gaels trying to withdraw from the Wizengamot."</p><p>"Yeah, but if they don't stop the Death Eaters escaping their influence, wouldn't that <em>encourage</em> the Gaels to follow suit?"</p><p>"I...guess it's <em>possible</em>. But not <em>likely</em>. They have a couple of decent sorcerers, but there aren't really enough of them to field any sort of military resistance to the Aurors and Hit Wizards. And they wouldn't want to ally with the Death Eaters and end up subject to <em>de Mort</em> rather than Britain. They at least have some <em>representation</em> in the Wizengamot." Not <em>much</em>, they only had a dozen or so Noble Houses, and half of them were practically British by now, but it was only a matter of time until the populists finally got their House of Commons equivalent, so.</p><p>"I don't know, it kind of seemed like there was a lot of emphasis on freedom and self-governance and hints of anti-statutarianism that would appeal to them. I wouldn't really expect vampires or werewolves or selkies to ally with him either, but he managed to get them on board <em>somehow</em>."</p><p>Mostly because <em>they</em> didn't have <em>any</em> representation in Britain as it was now. "How do you even <em>know</em> that?"</p><p>Evans smirked. "I <em>talk</em> to people, Black. And I <em>listen</em>."</p><p>Yeah, okay, but who the fuck was talking to <em>Lily fucking Evans</em> about creature groups allying with the Dark Lord? That wasn't even a recruitment point, she'd be <em>shocked</em> if Evans had heard it here at school. She sighed, trying to think how to explain that whole sequence of events as succinctly as possible.</p><p>"Mostly it all comes back to the Ministry being completely stupid over the past few years. Before Crouch took over as Head of the D.L.E., there weren't really any large-scale battles at all. The Death Eaters raided the Ministry Yule party the year before we started school, and the Ministry retaliated with an ‘unauthorised' Auror raid on the Bacchanalia a few months later, those were probably the biggest conflicts up to that point. Crouch thought he'd get this endemic Death Eater problem under control — they'd been around for about ten years already by then — by sneaking a bunch of mercenaries and human supremacist type groups into the Festa Morgana in Seventy-Three to provoke them, and arrest anyone who took the bait — all completely deniable, of course, total Black Cloak shite — but it turned into a full-on <em>riot</em> because it was hardly <em>just</em> the Death Eaters who violently objected to their party being ruined by fucking <em>mercs</em>, and the Death Eaters actually <em>won</em>.</p><p>"There were <em>dozens</em> of non-combatants and I think five Aurors killed in the crossfire — Bella and de Mort came out of it looking like fucking heroes, defending bystanders and organising their people to suppress the thing. <em>Taking decisive action in the midst of the chaos</em>, I think, was the phrase the Prophet used. They personally took out a team of American vigilantes who apparently had been going around murdering even law-abiding non-human beings for <em>years</em>."</p><p>De Mort had kept all eight of them busy while Bella executed them like a vampire assassin, stepping out of their shadows and slitting their throats — mostly for irony's sake, Aster suspected, to amuse the dozen or so humans who would get the joke (and every vampire in the entire bloody country). Seriously, how Dorea could <em>not realise</em> that they were purposefully drawing out the war, Aster couldn't imagine. When they stopped fucking around, they were just <em>brutally</em> efficient.</p><p>"Not that that got them many points with the Light, but it did with the vampires, and the werewolves, and the bloody <em>veela</em> — even some of the fucking <em>goblins</em> were on-board with the Revolution for a few years there — and someone in the D.L.E. leaked that the Aurors were behind the whole thing, so a lot of people who support the Wizengamot but not the Ministry ended up being swayed toward the Cause, having a little more sympathy for Death Eaters making raids on high-level targets linked to the Ministry in revenge, kind of ramped up the whole thing.</p><p>"Oh, and Bella recruited Crouch's son just to make it personal."</p><p>Aster actually <em>liked</em> Barty Junior. He'd been in last year's seventh-year class, one of the <em>very</em> few Slytherins who could actually take a joke — like, <em>hey, B.J., do they call you that because you're particularly good at them, or something?</em> which was probably the most throw-away line she'd ever used (but as it turned out, he actually <em>was</em>) — and he'd been just starting to come to baby Death Eater dueling contests and things the summer Aster was fourteen. For a brief few weeks toward the end of that summer, he'd actually managed to sway her toward thinking maybe the rest of them weren't so bad, because BJ's main reason for joining up was that the <em>Death Eaters</em> actually <em>appreciated</em> him, and accepted that he'd rather be an actor or a professor than a bureaucrat like his father. (The blowjobs had <em>nothing to do with it!</em> Really! No matter what Narcissa might say! BJ was just a very convincing, sympathetic sort of person!)</p><p>Thankfully, they'd come back to school in time for Jamie to remind her that the Death Eaters were fucking <em>evil</em> before she said something she couldn't take back — like, yeah, sure, maybe I <em>do</em> kind of agree with a lot of the Cause, and the people who're suffering aren't anyone <em>I</em> care about, and Bella is the only person who really gives a shite about me, and they don't <em>force</em> people to do dark magic, so maybe it <em>wouldn't</em> be so bad, becoming a Death Eater. (BJ had a knack for runes that meant he was almost certainly going to be trained as a cursebreaker, but Aster gave it a year or two at most before he earned enough trust to be moved to Recruitment, or maybe even what passed for their Diplomatic Corp, trying to legitimise their movement outside of Britain.)</p><p>"Oh, I liked him. He's the only person I've ever met who was raised completely in Magical Britain and had actually heard of the Pythons."</p><p>Yeah, well, Aster had never heard of them, either. "Is that a band?"</p><p>"A comedy troupe. They have a television series, it's bloody hilarious. Surreal, absurdist shite, you'd love it."</p><p>"I've never really watched a television programme." Honestly, she'd barely ever seen a television turned on. Once or twice, playing adverts in store-fronts in Muggle London, but they'd always seemed a bit...lame. Like photos that had sound, or portraits that couldn't really interact with you.</p><p>Evans gasped, her eyes going <em>very</em> wide. "What are you doing tomorrow?"</p><p>She hesitated, suddenly unaccountably wary. She <em>had</em> been thinking of sneaking out to the Three Broomsticks and flooing down to London to buy jeans that actually fit her recently re-shaped arse, but she hesitated to admit such a thing to Evans. No matter how insane Evans might be — admitting that <em>magic talks to me in my dreams</em> and that she'd seriously consider becoming a Death Eater if she couldn't run away to the Americas — or how much incentive she might have to help Aster win Jamie's affections, it still might not be a good idea to let a fucking prefect know in advance you were going to be out of bounds at a certain time. After all, they did have a truce, neither of them was going to out the other for practicing high ritual. It was entirely possible, however, that Evans would still give Aster detention if she was blatantly breaking the school rules.</p><p>"You're coming to my parents' house to watch telly!"</p><p><em>"What?"</em> No, seriously, <em>what the </em>fuck?! Even leaving aside the whole issue of Evans apparently being willing to play hooky herself, "We're not friends, Evans!"</p><p>"No, we're nemeses who have a truce, which is kind of like friends, but less <em>fake</em>. We already covered this. Like, three hours ago."</p><p>"It has <em>not</em> been—" Aster began, even as she cast a <em>tempus</em> charm. "How the <em>fuck</em> has it been— Did we miss dinner?" She was supposed to be trying not to do that, damn it!</p><p>"Um...yes. But not curfew, I'm sure the elves will give us some leftovers if you're hungry."</p><p>"I'm not, actually, but I've been informed I have to eat anyway." Or else become a <em>lot</em> better at subsumation so she could just subsist on light and magic without wasting away to skin and bones. Aster honestly wasn't certain whether Bella was joking about that — <em>she'd</em> barely eaten <em>anything</em> at lunch, so it didn't seem entirely impossible she'd thought <em>learning to not need to eat</em> sounded like a good idea at some point in her life.</p><p>"Oh, good! I was worried maybe I shouldn't say anything, you know, some girls get even more self-conscious and neurotic about their weight if you tell them they look like they're starving to death, but if someone's already pointed it out... Come on, now you've mentioned food, I'm starving." She popped to her feet to wait expectantly by the door.</p><p>"Seriously," Aster complained, dragging herself to her feet to join her. "How the <em>hell</em> have we been sitting here <em>talking</em> for <em>three hours</em>? I don't even <em>like</em> you!"</p><p>"Don't be ridiculous, Black, of course you like me. In an <em>I want to slap you half the time and snog you the other half</em> sort of way."</p><p>"I do <em>not!"</em> Aster objected, jumping slightly as her voice went shriller than she'd known it <em>could</em>. She sounded like <em>Walburga</em>, what the <em>fuck</em>!</p><p>Evans just laughed, leading the way out of the dorm. Aster followed because...well, she <em>did</em> need to eat.</p><hr/><p>She had no such good excuse for following Evans into a dark dungeon corridor about twelve hours later, joining a yawning, disgruntled Snivels for an adventure to Muggleland.</p><p>"Why is Black here?" he asked snidely, blinking at her in the dim light.</p><p>"She followed me home, so I decided to keep her."</p><p>"She <em>tried to kill me, two weeks ago</em>!"</p><p>"She wasn't trying to kill you, she was trying to get you expelled. And we have a truce now. Though, Aster, this may also be a good time to apologise to Sev."</p><p>Both Aster and Snivels glared at the cheerfully (and falsely) oblivious smile Evans had apparently stolen from Cassie. Silence stretched between the three of them as she waited patiently for Aster to cave.</p><p><em>"Ugh,</em> fine! I'm sorry I tried to get you expelled, and in so doing <em>accidentally </em>placed you in a position to be mauled or killed by a werewolf. I promise, it won't happen again, if only because I've been reminded that if he'd killed you or even just turned you, even if it was your fault — or mine and Jamie's, but definitely not his — Moony would still have been executed."</p><p>"...And?" Evans prompted her.</p><p>"And?" Aster repeated innocently.</p><p>"Isn't there supposed to be an offer of something to make it up to the person you wronged?"</p><p>There was, yes, but she'd be damned if she was going to do a favour for Snivels. "If you want to try to trick me into mortal peril as revenge, I won't consider it to be breaking our truce, how's that?" she offered — <em>incredibly magnanimously</em>, in her opinion.</p><p>"I have a better idea, Black: you stop calling me <em>Snivels</em>."</p><p>That was all he wanted? Really? ...<em>Fine</em>. "I'll try. Snape."</p><p>Evans clapped — Sni– <em>Snape</em> flinched at the sound in the confined space of the corridor — giving them a beatific smile. "It's <em>so</em> lovely to see us all putting aside our differences, and—"</p><p>Sni– <em>Snape</em> glowered at her. "Piss off, Lily. It's too early for that shite."</p><p>"You're no fun, Sev. Also..." She flipped a sickle at Sn-<em>ape</em>, who fumbled and dropped it, because had she really expected him to catch it? <em>Snape</em> was about as athletic as any other slimy potions nerd — i.e. <em>not</em>. He summoned the coin to his hand with a freeform effect rather than bend over and scrabble at the floor to pick it up, which was both obnoxious and slightly impressive. Evans ignored this and the silent glare he fixed on her. "...you were half right. It is 'Bellatrix', but de Mort named her, not the Blackheart."</p><p>"What, you were betting on my <em>name</em>?"</p><p><em>"Obviously</em>. What has de Mort got to do with anything?"</p><p>"Ah, well, I was right about that one. High ritual, not low. Either she just naturally looks that much like Trixie, or the gods thought it was funny to make them pretty much identical. Either way, this body's not <em>actually</em> modeled on Bellatrix."</p><p>"I'm standing <em>right here</em>!" Aster snapped, almost as annoyed about Evans implying yesterday that she didn't <em>know</em> what Bella looked like and herself for being taken in as she was with the two of them for ignoring her. "And we're not <em>identical</em>. Bella's eyes are starry, not silver." Which Aster was slightly jealous of — she'd always thought that <em>so blue they're practically black</em> colour, seeming all the darker for the occasional silver-blue fleck here or there, was pretty.</p><p>Snivels flipped the sickle back to Evans, who caught it, held it up, and blew on it, dissolving it into a shower of blue sparks. "Ah, so Black is here so you have someone to show off for."</p><p>"No, she's here because she's never heard of Monty Python."</p><p>"Why <em>would</em> she have? All her friends are purebloods or bloody <em>Lupin</em>, and he wouldn't know what to do with sketch comedy if it was happening right in front of him."</p><p>"You mean, every single day at the Gryffindor table?"</p><p>"Yes. <em>I</em>, however, <em>have</em> seen every episode of the Flying Circus, so why am <em>I</em> here?"</p><p>Evans grinned. "So I have someone to show off <em>with</em>."</p><p>Sn-<em>ape</em> — <em>fuck</em>, this was harder than she'd expected it to be! — glowered at her. "Did you at least bring coffee?" Evans hesitated, prompting the Slytherin to brush past her, back out into the main corridor and off toward the kitchens, bitching all the while. "It's <em>eight A.M.</em>, Lily! <em>Eight!</em> On a <em>Saturday!</em> You can't expect a bloke to deal with your parents — and worse, your <em>sister</em> — at <em>eight in the morning,</em> on a <em>Saturday</em>, <em>without coffee</em>!"</p><p>"You know you can just steal some from my parents."</p><p>"You know your father already hates me. I'd rather not endure however many hours of scorn for having the temerity to <em>bum coffee</em> off your family, as well as the occasional sandwich and bloody <em>oxygen</em>. Besides, the elves have <em>better</em> coffee." The brew the Evanses drank must be bloody terrible, then, Aster thought, because she had honestly never had worse coffee than the Hogwarts elves routinely served. Sni— <em>The dungeon bat</em> tickled the pear, wrenching open the door to the kitchens with far more force than necessary, startling the dozen or so elves standing around waiting to send up replacement platters when the students finally started coming down to breakfast. "Coffee," he said shortly, ignoring their greetings. "<em>Please</em>. The <em>good</em> coffee, not the pathetic excuse for caffeinated water you send up to the students."</p><p>"In a thermos, please!" Evans called after the elf who scurried away toward the food preparation area.</p><p>"There's <em>good coffee</em>?" Aster said, wondering whether the elf was already too far away to ask it to make that two.</p><p>"Not for <em>you</em>, Black. <em>You</em> are the reason students aren't allowed to have <em>good</em> coffee."</p><p>"I am <em>not!"</em></p><p>"You kind of are."</p><p>"Oh, shut up, Evans, no one asked <em>you</em>!"</p><p>"You'll notice, I sometimes volunteer helpful little facts like that — because I'm <em>such</em> a nice person, you see, I just can't help myself."</p><p>Aster snorted. "I believe that <em>last</em> part, at least."</p><p>Bat-boy glared at them both. "I am, for the record, predicting the impending end of the world."</p><p>"Oh, come off it, Sev! Me having a bit of fun with Aster isn't an apocalyptic omen, or something."</p><p>"No, you and Black playing off each other is going to somehow be the <em>cause</em> of the apocalypse. Constructive interference multiplying absurdity by insanity and creating some sort of singularity of madness, through which the Old Ones— Oh, gods and Powers, <em>thank you</em>," he cut himself off — to Aster's brief confusion, before she realised the elf with the coffee was approaching from behind herself and Evans.</p><p>Aster managed to hold her tongue until they were out of the kitchens, but they hadn't quite reached the secret passage Evans claimed led out beyond the edge of the wards when she <em>had</em> to say, "No degree of mundane insanity can cause a dimensional rift. It's just sometimes it seems like it, because Abominations tend to inspire insanity in nearby humans even before they fully break through into this dimension."</p><p>"What, really? Where did you hear <em>that?"</em> Evans asked, even as Bat-boy, in a rare role reversal, gave <em>Aster</em> a condescending sneer, drawling, "Nerd."</p><p>She ignored him. "Some diary I found in the library at Ancient House. Belonged to this bloke called Marsh. That was one of the <em>very</em> few things that made any sense at all, the rest of it was just raving. Admittedly I'm not exactly an <em>expert</em>, but it seemed like a credible primary source to me."</p><p>Demonic Congress — the art of communicating with and even summoning <em>things</em> from other planes of existence, completely outside mundane understanding — was probably the most <em>fascinating </em>Greater Dark Art. It was <em>possible</em> Aster had spent <em>far</em> more afternoons than she was willing to admit hiding from her mother in the Library reading all sorts of gruesome historical accounts of the consequences of inviting extra-dimensional beings to tea.</p><p>Evans grinned. "I don't suppose you still have access to the Black library?"</p><p>It didn't really seem worth it to explain that there were significant collections of books at several different properties, some of which she might be able to access — Bella probably wouldn't have a problem with her coming over to Ancient House, and there were half a dozen properties that weren't actually <em>occupied</em> at the moment, she didn't know if they'd updated the wards to keep her out — and some of which she definitely couldn't — she was <em>pretty sure</em> she wasn't welcome at Grimmauld or the Keep, or Moorlands, or pretty much anywhere else. "Ah, <em>no</em>, definitely not."</p><p>"Pity, I'd've <em>loved</em> to have had a look around. Anomos says the old families have <em>all</em> the best books hoarded away."</p><p>Why was Aster not surprised Evans had apparently been to the Bookshop? Actually, that probably explained where she'd heard about the different non-human groups joining the Cause — Odysseus knew <em>everyone</em> and <em>everything</em> that happened in the international Dark Arts community. Even <em>she'd</em> met him, though she had been about <em>nine</em> at the time, being dragged about on errands.</p><p>"The <em>best</em> books are written in Old High Elvish, which is a complete <em>bastard</em> of a language, and there are only a handful of people who can read it even in the Noble Houses." Aster needed three different reference books, a grammar and two different dictionaries, and <em>literally hours</em> to puzzle through even the simplest passages, and she <em>still</em> had to ask Bella whether she'd translated certain things right — it was hard to tell sometimes whether she was getting nonsense because Old High Elvish was completely mad or because the writer had been. "Besides, what makes you think I'd let you have a look around? We're not friends, remember?"</p><p>"I'd make it my business to convince you. I can be very persistent." She ducked back into the corridor where they'd met Snivels and, after a quick look around for anyone who might be watching, whispered a password to one of the abstract, snakish motifs carved into the wall. It slithered aside, hiding behind the next iteration of the pattern, and revealing a hidden compartment, which held a heavy-looking silver key. She used this to trace an archway onto the wall beside it, magic shivering to life, creating—</p><p>"Is that a bloody <em>portal?"</em></p><p>"Yeah, it leads to an old circle out in the forest, on the other side of the wards. Go on, it only stays open for thirty seconds or so."</p><p>Aster might not have if Bat-boy hadn't gone first, hugging his thermos as though coffee was a far greater concern than whatever might lie on the other side of this thing, so it was probably safe enough. She gave him two seconds to get out of the way before she followed him. Evans was right behind her, almost tripping over her as she took stock of the ancient ritual site. It was almost completely overgrown — most of the standing stones had collapsed, the altar cracked by invading roots — but she could still feel the echoes of <em>purpose</em> in the magic around them, heavy and tingling and <em>paying attention</em>. When this place <em>had</em> been used, it had been used <em>a lot</em>.</p><p>"How did you even find this place?"</p><p>Evans gave her a soft, silly smile. <em>"Magic</em>. Isn't it <em>great?"</em></p><p>"Do you know what it was used for?"</p><p>"Of course. I was there," she said absently, gazing into the centre of the circle, as though watching something Aster couldn't see.</p><p>She was... Did she mean she'd dreamed of the rituals that used to happen here? Or that she was seeing them <em>now?</em></p><p>"Lily," Dungeon Bat said sharply. "Focus. We were going to your parents' house."</p><p>Her eyelids fluttered several times before she seemed to come back to herself, somehow more <em>present</em> than Aster had ever seen her before. "Right, yes." She pulled an adder stone from her pocket, setting it on one piece of the shattered altar, and held out her hands for them to form a circle around it. This meant holding hands with <em>Sni</em>– a slimy <em>Slytherin</em> (<em>ew</em>), but Aster did (after he shoved the thermos into a pocket with a long-suffering sigh). "You have to focus on the hole in the stone."</p><p>Aster didn't recognise the language of the incantation that followed — maybe Gaelic, but pronouncing the words the way they were spelled? — but its purpose was clear. The tiny hole in the adder stone seemed to grow larger as her focus narrowed on it, the darkness at its centre overwhelming her, until it felt as though she was about to fall into an abyss, overcome by it. And then she felt as though she <em>did</em> fall into it, or rather <em>through</em> it, the world twisting and flipping around them with stomach-turning suddenness. Like a portkey, if portkeys <em>turned you inside out</em> as you moved from one place to the other. She closed her eyes, holding <em>very</em> tightly to the others' hands, trying to ground herself — gods and Powers that was just—</p><p>"Oh, suck it up, Black," Snivels snarked. She could <em>hear</em> him sneering.</p><p>"Like you didn't vom all over yourself the first time I pulled <em>you</em> through a fairy stone? Give her a break."</p><p>Aster took a deep breath, inhaling the mucky, slightly rotted scent of a dirty river — not really helpful on the <em>not vomiting</em> front — before deciding she felt steady enough to try opening her eyes. "I'm fine. I'm good. Where are we?"</p><p>"Welcome to the quaint, lovely little village of Cokeworth," Snivels said drily. "Located on the banks of the beautiful River Trent, the village features such popular tourist attractions as extreme poverty and violent, deadbeat drunks."</p><p>"And also Monty Python," Evans added cheerfully. "Come on, my house is this way," she said, leading them off into the trees.</p><p>A brisk, five minute walk brought them to a rather weathered-looking street — the houses old, but yards meticulously kept, one of those poor-but-proud neighborhoods. Somehow, it was hard to imagine there were many deadbeats around here, drunk or otherwise. "This doesn't seem so bad," she noted.</p><p>"Lily lives in the <em>good</em> part of town." Which implied Bat-boy didn't. Somehow, Aster wasn't surprised.</p><p>"Come on, you guys are so <em>slow</em>!" Evans had apparently stopped to look back, and realised she was about two houses ahead of them.</p><p>"It's still only eight-thirty!" the Slytherin called back, his pace, if anything, slowing. "Did Lily tell you anything about her family?" he asked, his tone <em>heavily</em> resigned.</p><p>"Not a bloody thing. Can't be worse than mine, though."</p><p>"Missus Evans is nice. She'll probably want to know all about you and your life and your family, and can you do any neat magic tricks for us. <em>Mister</em> Evans hates the fact that I happen to <em>exist</em> and Lily insists on being friends with me, more than you and Potter do. And Petunia's a complete <em>bitch</em> — like Lily, but jealous and bitter because she can't do magic, so she doesn't get an easy ticket out of this hell-hole. They're all...<em>very</em> muggle. Just, try not to say anything <em>too</em> outlandish? It's harder to make them forget things they find legitimately <em>shocking</em>."</p><p>"You...obliviate them? Why?"</p><p>"No, <em>obliviating</em> them would be illegal and easily detected. But there are other ways to make an unsuspecting muggle forget that their daughter is a bit..." He trailed off, apparently at a loss to explain Evans's particular brand of insanity in a way that wasn't <em>completely</em> unflattering.</p><p>"God-touched," Aster suggested. Usually that was a euphemism for <em>completely out of touch with reality</em>, but it was actually <em>meant</em> to refer to people like Evans, ones whom, for some ineffable reason, magic had taken an especial interest in. (The entire House of Black was, to some degree, favoured by magic, which probably had something to do with the association between being god-touched and being <em>insane</em>.) Even when they were more or less sane they tended to be a bit disturbing, even to people who were <em>familiar</em> with magic — Evans's roommates, for instance. She could easily imagine Evans's parents being terrified or baffled by their daughter, if not both.</p><p>Sni– Bat-boy glared at her as though he wasn't aware of the non-derogatory use of the term. Which, come to think of it, he might not be — he <em>had</em> grown up <em>here</em>, after all. Or, well, in a presumably shittier part of town, but. "Yes, that. In all honesty, they don't know enough about magic to understand how disturbing Lily can be, but they're...conservative. Catholics. And...easily shocked by many things you likely consider to be perfectly mundane."</p><p>"...I'm going to need examples, here, Sni– Snape." Because Aster didn't know the first fucking thing about Catholics and what they might find <em>shocking</em>. That was one of those Abrahamic religions, right? Most of what she knew about them was based on things Bella had made them all read when Gemma had asked what Magic was like before the Statute.</p><p>"Casual shagging. Bisexuality. You changing sexes." Well, <em>yeah</em>, she could have guessed <em>that</em> one, even mages found that weird, and it wasn't exactly polite to go talking about your sex life with people you'd just met, anyway. Did Sniv— <em>Snape! Damn it!</em> — think she'd been raised a complete <em>barbarian</em>? "Polytheism. Atheism. Absolute certainty that <em>your</em> god <em>exists</em>, because you've spoken to it directly." Aster suspected Evans must have tried to talk to her parents about Magic at some point. "You being insane. Lily being insane. Casual violence, any sort of physical violence that requires a healer — muggles have a very different concept of major injuries — cursing people, getting into fights — though, dueling tournaments are okay, they're under the impression it's a bit like a fencing tournament — Death Eaters, the War, <em>our</em> war, pranking people in general — they don't approve of humiliating people for laughs — human/non-human politics, wilderfolk—"</p><p>"Are you really doing this, Sev?" Evans interrupted — apparently they'd caught up enough she could overhear.</p><p>"<em>Yes</em>, Lily, because I live in hope that one of these days you will decide to give enough fucks to censor yourself, so I don't have to redact ninety per cent of every conversation we have with your parents, and if today happens to be that happy day, I'd prefer Black <em>not</em> ruin it, so."</p><p>"Yeah, today is <em>not</em> that day."</p><p>"<em>Urgh</em>, why not?! You spent <em>all summer</em> here, not speaking to me, and didn't manage to get kicked out or institutionalised, obviously you <em>can</em> talk to them—"</p><p>"I mostly avoided them, actually. But I left my notice-me-not amulet at school because there are three of us. Besides, you know my mum's going to want to know <em>literally everything</em> about my new roommate. Despite having no real concept of what <em>literally everything</em> might mean. Don't worry about freaking them out, Aster, we've been home three times already this term, and they don't remember any of them."</p><p>That was...kind of fucked up, really. "Muggle baiting your own parents, Evans?"</p><p>She at least had the good grace to look <em>slightly</em> ashamed of herself. "It just seems...<em>kinder</em>, to let them remain blissfully ignorant about certain things."</p><p>"Things that would result in Lily being kicked out, because magic is okay — as long as it's vanishing conjured sickles and making pretty light shows, not anything <em>dangerous</em> — but shagging Lovegood isn't."</p><p>"And that their entire religion is a sham, and that we might kind of sort of be getting dragged into the middle of a war if we can't get out of it, and how dangerous magic can be... I'm their baby girl, Aster. They <em>want</em> to think the best of me, and it's much harder to charm people who knew me before I was <em>good</em> at charming people. Besides, we're not even supposed to be here."</p><p>"So it's totally okay to just go and make them forget you <em>were</em> here? No, it's not — if you can't even manage a civil conversation with your parents, fine, don't talk to them, I'm like the poster girl for walking the fuck out and never speaking to your family again. But to keep coming home and then making them forget you were here? And for something as silly as <em>watching telly</em>? That's just...dirty, okay."</p><p>"Well <em>excuse me</em> for not wanting to completely <em>ruin</em> my relationship with my parents!"</p><p>Aster hoped her expression was conveying the degree of scorn she held for that protest. "You don't <em>have</em> a relationship with your parents, Evans. Not if you're spending all summer hiding behind an unobtrusive charm, and you have to obliviate them every time you talk to them." At that point, Aster would be hard-pressed to even consider them <em>family</em> anymore.</p><p>Evans flinched, crossing her arms defensively, her face twisting into a pained, guilt-ridden pout. "You said you got it, when I told you how shite it is having to fake being someone I'm not <em>all the time</em>."</p><p><em>"She said, faking.</em> You're falling into <em>negative</em> sympathy points here, Evans."</p><p>She dropped the act, glaring at Aster. "They knew me until I was <em>eleven</em>, when, as I said, I wasn't <em>nearly</em> as good at this! If I can't fool <em>you</em>, I can't fool them either, and even if I could, I don't <em>want</em> to, they're my <em>family</em>, I shouldn't have to lie to them!"</p><p>"Then <em>don't!</em> Just keep your fucking mouth shut, I'll do the talking, and Sni– <em>Snape</em> won't have to mind-rape your mum for you!" Evans slapped her, hard enough Aster was sure her left cheek would still have a red, hand-shaped mark on it when they got to her parents' house, they had to be pretty close by now. She snagged the bitch's wrist, jerking her closer when she tried to pull away — Aster might be shorter than Evans now, and a good stone lighter, but Evans didn't know the first fucking thing about grappling, her stance was <em>all</em> wrong. "Careful now, Evans. Wouldn't want to start something if you can't follow through."</p><p>For a long two seconds, they stood there, glaring at each other, noses six inches from touching — Aster honestly wasn't certain whether Evans was going to try to kiss her or belt her in the stomach, and she honestly wasn't certain she cared — and then...</p><p>"Oh, for fuck's sake, you woke me up and dragged me back to Cokeworth for <em>this</em>?"</p><p>Evans's eyes flicked over to Bat-boy, breaking the tension between them. Aster let her go. "No. You know exactly why I dragged you along."</p><p>"Yes, and I can't <em>believe</em> I'm saying this — this actually <em>might</em> be a sign of impending doom on a global scale — but I agree with Black: we shouldn't keep doing this to Mary. Me making her forget every time you slip up is really just you lying to her by omission, by proxy."</p><p>"But...you've never said anything — I thought you didn't mind..."</p><p>"I <em>don't</em>. You're the one who said you don't want to lie to them, and shouldn't have to. If you meant it, and you <em>did</em>, then don't. And if you <em>are</em> going to lie to them, you could at least do them the courtesy of lying to their faces, rather than using magic to steal the truth back after the fact."</p><p>"But <em>Sev</em>..."</p><p>"We both know you're still putting on an act anyway, Lily." Wait, was that implying that she was <em>always</em> putting on an act? Even now? "So which is it? Pretending to be their little Lily-flower, just pretending not to be the frigid, manipulative bitch you really are, or avoiding the whole issue by sneaking into the cinema instead?"</p><p>Evans pouted for another long moment before suggesting, grudgingly, "If Black wants to do the talking, let her. But I'm warning you, it's not <em>nearly</em> as easy as you think, keeping them from flipping out, even when you <em>do</em> lie. And then when she fucks up, you can steal their memories and we'll leave, and when I come home for Christmas we can get in a fight about religion and I'll get myself kicked out, and we just won't come back, okay? I mean, it's not like they wouldn't have had a problem with me moving to the Americas after leaving school. I was just hoping we could put that off until...well, forever. If possible. Is making them just forget I ever existed an option?"</p><p>"Certainly not a <em>human</em> option."</p><p>A considering look stole over Evans's face. "Noted."</p><p>Aster gave them her best impression of Auntie Dru's exasperated, <em>could you please stop being such </em>children<em> now</em> expression. "Or, crazy thought, you could pretend to be a normal person — normal-<em>ish</em>, at least — on the <em>rare</em> occasion you're actually <em>required </em>to interact with them, and tell them Miskatonic's reputation is really more like Liberty Salem's, or something, and you're <em>only</em> going there because it's the best school for whatever, not because no one would expect you not to be insane. It's not like they know anything to call you out on it."</p><p>"So, your solution to my <em>not wanting to lie to my parents</em> is...lying to my parents?"</p><p>"There are lies, Evans, and then there are <em>lies</em>."</p><p>"You realise that makes <em>no</em> sense."</p><p>Really? It made <em>perfect</em> sense to <em>Aster</em>. Maybe because she'd actually been taught how to use the truth to imply a lie, but it wasn't all that different to use lies to imply something true. "Sure it does. You want them to have some idea what magic is capable of, some idea of what magic <em>is</em>, and what <em>you</em> are, but still think you're their good little girl? That's not even<em> hard</em>."</p><p>"You haven't met my parents, Black! You have <em>no</em> idea how easy it is to offend them!"</p><p>Yeah, well, as she'd<em> just</em> told <em>Snape</em>, there was no way in any of the nine hells that Evans's "conservative" muggle parents were anywhere <em>near</em> as bad as the Blacks, or even the Noble Houses in general. It didn't hurt that she had the advantage of the Evanses not having known her since she was tiny, and being unapologetically magically-raised meant <em>she</em> wasn't<em> expected</em> to be perfectly normal by muggle standards. Plus, guests always had more leeway to express unacceptable opinions than children of the House, Aster was pretty sure that was universal. If there was one thing growing up as a dissenter in the House of Black had taught her, it was how to skirt around uncomfortable topics (even if that was almost all of them)...or else just bowl right over them without giving anyone time to be offended or air their objections. And she could practise a normal, more feminine persona to use as the basis of her <em>totally not Prefect Evans</em> personality shift, too. (She'd decided to shoot for something vaguely Marley-esque, but with more spine — Marley and Jamie had known each other <em>forever</em>, she was probably the girl he knew best, ergo she was probably a good example of what he expected girls to act like.) "You underestimate me, Evans. Watch and learn. Which house is it?"</p><p>"That one." She nodded at a small, grey-sided house. It was plain and simple, and, like all of the other houses on the street, looked a bit careworn. It could use a fresh coat of paint, and the shutters were missing a few slats. The awning over the front steps sagged a bit, and the tiny white pickets lining the edges of the flower-beds in the front garden were slightly uneven. But there wasn't a single weed or bit of rubbish to be seen among the flowers (most neatly dead-headed for the autumn, seed-pods no doubt squirrelled away until spring), and there were bright curtains in the windows — orange with brilliant green <em>spots</em> — suggesting the inside of the house wasn't nearly as <em>boring</em> as the outside. "Three-fifteen. Looks like Daddy's out."</p><p>Aster had no idea what about the appearance of the house suggested that, but she didn't care enough to ask. "Lovely, let's go," she said, skipping up the front walk.</p><p>"Er...you know there's still, um...your face..."</p><p>Yes, her left cheek <em>did</em> still feel unusually warm. Not that it mattered. She doubted Mrs. Evans would say anything, politeness tended to preclude that sort of observation. "My face is gorgeous, Evans. Come on, you're going to have to at least <em>introduce</em> me." She knocked on the door before either of the others could offer another objection, however, and Mrs. Evans managed to get to the door before Evans quite caught up.</p><p>"Oh, hello." The lady of the house was about an inch shorter than her daughter, face creased with laugh lines, hair strawberry-blonde. Strands here and there had gone silver, giving her neat bob a slightly frosted look. "Can I help you with something, Miss...?"</p><p>"Black. Aster. And you must be Missus Evans, sorry, I seem to have gotten a little ahead — sometimes I get a bit excitable, you see—"</p><p>"Hi, Mum," Evans said, joining her on the doorstep <em>finally</em>.</p><p>"Lily! Come here, love, give me a hug!" she demanded, opening the door further to match action to words. "You, too, Severus, goodness, you're getting so <em>tall!</em> But, what are you doing home in the middle of term?"</p><p>"We're playing hooky," Aster said, a hint of a grin teasing at her lips. "That is what you call it, right, when you sneak out of school for the day?"</p><p>"Well, yes, but— Come in, come in." She waved them into the house, which was every bit as brightly decorated as Aster had expected. The front door opened directly into a parlour, with the kitchen on the other side of what seemed to be a bar — transplanted from a pastel-pink pub, perhaps — off to their right. The carpet was the same green as the spots on the curtains, and long enough it almost looked like grass, white sofas and chairs patterned with pink and orange and brown paisley arranged to visit or to watch the wood-paneled television box opposite the kitchen. There was a cross on the wall behind it, suggesting Catholicism was one of the Christian religions — a cult based around a Light Lord who'd lived a couple millennia ago, she was mostly familiar with it because Charlus Potter was a fan of his philosophy. The furniture matched Mrs. Evans's dress, simple and short-sleeved with a flaring, orange and white skirt that came to just below her knees, a wide belt doing a corset's job of defining her waist, and looking <em>much</em> more comfortable. Far too short for daywear in the magical world, but hardly daring for a muggle, Aster thought, comparing it to the sort of things she'd seen around Muggle London last summer. "I'm sorry, who are you, exactly?" she asked, offering them a seat with another gesture.</p><p>Aster perched herself eagerly on the edge of the sofa, right in the middle, leaving Evans and Bat-boy to hover awkwardly by the door, or else (<em>if they weren't bloody </em>idiots) follow her lead. "Oh! I'm Aster, Lily's new roommate."</p><p>"New roommate? Lily didn't mention— I thought you said you would be staying with the same girls until you left school, dear?"</p><p>Her daughter, still in the process of slowly drifting toward a chair, apparently in the midst of a whispered conversation with her pet bat, didn't quite manage to answer (or possibly was sticking to her plan of letting Aster do the talking). "Um, what? Sorry, Mum, I didn't catch that...?"</p><p>That was fine. Aster grinned. "Oh, well, that's kind of a long story, Missus Evans, but the short version is, there was a bit of an accident — I was... Well, I was being a bit daft, really, experimenting with an old spell I found in my family's library over the summer. I thought it was supposed to help me understand what it was like to be a girl, just to, you know, figure out what they like in a chap, and so on — what's gentlemanly, and what's patronising, or hopelessly foppish — but, well, it's possible I had the translation wrong, somehow, or— I don't know, my Head of House wasn't very pleased with me, I can tell you, fooling around with something so dangerous, he read me the riot act, but, well, it didn't seem quite safe trying to change me <em>back</em> until we figure out how, exactly, the spell went wrong in the first place, or— The healers said it's possible it will wear off by itself, but in the meanwhile, they've switched me to the girls' dorm — it simply wouldn't be <em>decent</em>, you see, me sharing a room with the lads anymore, as things currently stand, so—"</p><p>"I– I'm sorry, are you saying you used to be a boy?"</p><p>"Yes, ma'am."</p><p>"And... And you've somehow...turned yourself into a girl."</p><p>"Accidentally, yes. I know it must seem strange, but magic can be unpredictable sometimes."</p><p>"I...see." Mrs. Evans hesitated for a long moment before she apparently felt compelled to say, "Forgive me, er...Miss Black, but...doesn't the whole situation strike you as a bit...<em>unnatural?"</em></p><p>"Oddly, no. And I do mean that, <em>oddly</em>, you'd expect it would, wouldn't you?" Everyone else certainly seemed to. "But, well, the spell <em>was</em> meant to help me understand what it's like to be a girl, so maybe that's a part of it. I mean, I don't suppose most girls are horribly uncomfortable simply because they're female, so that would probably take away from the whole experience, don't you think? Or...did you mean magic being able to do something like this in the first place?"</p><p>"Er...well, yes."</p><p>"Oh! Sorry, I wasn't being deliberately obtuse, it's just, I grew up around magic, with the understanding that it <em>is</em> part of the natural world, even if it does result in events that are highly improbable or even impossible considering only mundane physics and biology. There are mages who can turn into animals at will, you know — our Transfiguration professor can become a cat whenever she wants. Metamorphs can do something similar, changing their physical bodies however they like — sex, age, if they want to live for centuries they can — even the basic structures of the body, if they know enough about biology, I met a metamorph with <em>wings</em>, once. And potions and transfiguration can do a lot of the same things for normal humans, temporarily at least.</p><p>"I've met vampires and werewolves, goblins, elves, and centaurs, seen real, live dragons and ridden winged horses — all of them, their <em>existence</em> is <em>far</em> more impossible than me turning into a girl. They shouldn't be able to survive, in some cases would never have existed at all without magic. And yet, they <em>do</em> exist. I know a man who used alchemy to make himself look like he's half snake, and one of my cousins uses runes to be able to move like a vampire — stronger and faster and more graceful than humans. We can jump from place to place in the mundane world by taking short-cuts through other dimensions, or travel through fire, or shadows. There are plants that will let you breathe underwater, and spells to exempt you from <em>gravity</em>. Broomsticks and carpets can be enchanted to <em>fly</em>. Even the simplest illusions are ‘unnatural' insofar as they defy mundane expectations for the way light and sound behave." She shrugged, judging that quite enough to be getting on with. "Honestly, I didn't <em>expect</em> to actually <em>become a girl</em>, physically, but I can't say I'm really <em>surprised</em>, even.</p><p>"You learn to expect the unexpected, when it comes to magic. Sometimes it's overly literal, or you get more than you asked for, or you made a wish without understanding the potential consequences, but, well... One of my cousins likes to say that scars are reminders of mistakes that we're not going to make again. I really think that's the best way to look at this whole situation — as a learning experience, and an object lesson in exercising caution when dealing with new spells. Or old ones, as the case may be."</p><p>She paused to see whether Mrs. Evans had anything to say, but it seemed she didn't. Good. That suggested she wasn't still stuck on Aster having recently been a boy, but slightly overwhelmed by the concept of <em>magic</em> being so utterly <em>impossible</em>. Couldn't let her have too much time to focus on <em>that</em>, either, though — thinking through some of those examples would inevitably lead to uncomfortable implications and topics best left untouched, for the moment. Not <em>forever</em>, she would eventually process the idea that magic could be used in all sorts of terrifying ways, and would probably have a <em>lot</em> of questions for Evans, which, if she wasn't a complete idiot, she would answer, and field any objections about her not telling her mother about all of this <em>years</em> ago with something along the lines of <em>I just didn't want to worry you, I mean, I was just a little girl, most of that didn't occur to me for </em>years<em>, and then, how do you just go telling your mum— </em>blah, blah, blah.</p><p>"Anyway, Professor McGonagall asked Lily to help me get...accustomed, I suppose would be the word, to living with the girls, because she's our prefect, you see, and, well, it's possible I'm a bad influence, but I <em>might</em> have convinced her that we needed to go shopping for something a bit less...<em>formal</em>, than this." She was wearing overly-full dueling trousers and a tight-sleeved silk blouse, both an almost brassy gold, with a knee-length scarlet dueling robe over it, rather than a cloak. It didn't <em>quite</em> look muggle, the robes were split up to the waist for the sake of freedom of movement — when she spun around, the panels flared out about three feet around her — but from a distance, she figured it would pass for a long skirt and coat. "I borrowed these from my cousin Narcissa, but, well, they're not really my style." That was a flat lie. They were actually <em>Bella's</em> style, just toned down enough to wear around school, and in brighter colours. Which didn't suit Narcissa <em>at all</em>, but that was hardly the point. Aster <em>did</em> actually like things like this, if she couldn't wear muggle jeans and tee-shirts. Which, given that she had no jeans that actually <em>fit</em>, at the moment she couldn't. "I do like your dress, though. Would you be willing to share the name of your tailor?"</p><p>Mrs. Evans went pink. "Oh, <em>this</em>? Honey, I made this myself! I'm sure I still have the pattern somewhere, but..."</p><p>Ha! Brill! She <em>had</em> been intending to distract the woman with flattery over her sense of style, but this was even better. "Oh! You do lovely work. I'm afraid I haven't the least talent when it comes to, well, I would say feminine arts, but really, anything requiring patience and focus. Runes. Potions. Translating crumbling magical texts." She gave Evans's mum a slightly rueful, self-deprecating smile, inviting her to share in the absurdity that was her current situation. "That's pretty much the reason I've never learned to sew — there <em>are</em> charms, of course, but to make them work properly, you have to be pretty good at doing it by hand first. And I don't even know how muggle sewing works. Is there some kind of machine you use to get the two threads to lock together?" She kind of thought there had to be, because her tee-shirts were held together with a completely different kind of stitching than she'd ever seen from an elf or an actual tailor.</p><p>"Oh, goodness! Yes, of course, dear. I can't even imagine trying to put together something like this by hand. Sewing machines are much faster, and stitch more evenly than I could ever manage, I'm sure."</p><p>"That's <em>fascinating</em>! I would ask how it works, but then I expect we'd be here for hours. I mean, that's kind of the reason we're here in the first place — Lily didn't want you to know she'd snuck out today, she's such a goody-two-shoes!" Aster still had <em>no</em> idea where that phrase came from, just that Ellie used it all the time to describe the brown-nosers who went out of their way to suck up to professors. "But it somehow came up that I'd never actually seen a television programme because, well, I've never been in a non-magical home. Actually, my mother would probably be more disturbed by me being here than she was when she found out I'm a girl at the moment."</p><p>"So, your parents don't know where you are?" Mrs. Evans asked, her tone faintly disapproving.</p><p>"My parents don't <em>care</em> where I am. But, no, they're, well... We don't get on. At all. I moved out over the summer."</p><p>"Oh, dear! Surely it couldn't be <em>that</em> bad!"</p><p>"Oh, it was. See..." She cast about for some reasonable comparison, her eyes falling on the cross on the wall. Well, that would work. She'd already managed to hit her sex change and how dangerous magic could be on the list of shite she wasn't supposed to mention, that just left religion and politics, right? "You're Christian, right?" She could practically feel Evans's glare boring into the side of her head.</p><p>Mrs. Evans nodded. "Catholic. I take it your family isn't."</p><p>"Oh, no. There <em>are</em> mages who follow Abrahamic philosophy, think Jesus had some good ideas about how to be a good person and so on. My godmother's husband's family do. But we tend not to be <em>religious</em> in the same way muggles are. Though, I'm sure everything I've been told about muggle religions is just as biased as everything else I was taught about muggles, so, apologies in advance if I'm terribly off the mark and say something horribly insulting. My understanding is, the Christian god isn't really accessible and active in its followers' lives. That's one of the main problems with monotheism — when your god is <em>everything</em>, it's on both sides of every conflict, so asking it to intervene in mortal affairs is kind of pointless, right? So a lot of modern Abrahamic religions are based around the idea of faith in your god's existence despite a general lack of miracles and answered prayers."</p><p>"Aster!" Evans interrupted before her mother could, apparently unable to sit quietly and watch Mrs. Evans go on a furious tirade about her god being real, because, well, that whole faith thing. "I thought we agreed <em>not</em> to talk about religion!"</p><p>"I don't recall agreeing to any such thing. Besides, this is important background information. I can't really explain that I was cast out as a heretic if I don't explain what my family believes, and I can't explain <em>that</em> without talking about what religion <em>is</em>. It's not like I'm saying the Christian god doesn't exist, just, we have kind of a different understanding of it."</p><p>"Go on," Mrs. Evans said coldly, apparently <em>slightly</em> mollified by that assurance.</p><p>"Well, bearing in mind most of what I know about Abrahamic religions is related to the Crusades, and I only have the <em>vaguest</em> idea about the actual god itself, it <em>is</em> supposed to be an omnipresent, omniscient deity, right? The great <em>I am</em>, or something like that?"</p><p>"To vastly oversimplify the concept, yes."</p><p>"Right, well, we would call that — everything that is, everything within the scope of human perception and outside of it, everything that has been and will be, the fundamental energy of the universe, the consciousness that arises from <em>life</em> — Magic. Capital-M Magic. We don't have to take its existence on faith, we know it's there, even if there are <em>some people</em> who don't believe it's an independently conscious entity, and it's pointless trying to convince them otherwise. So, when I say <em>we</em> know it's there, I mean... Most mages at least understand that magic — lowercase-m magic, that we use in our daily lives — is in <em>everything</em>. We can manipulate that directly, obviously, that's what we're going to school for. But you can <em>also</em> do magic by getting the attention of capital-M Magic, or some small part of it. Going back to the whole monotheism versus polytheism thing, it's a lot easier to call on, say, Saint Jude," whose name Aster only knew because of the Beatles, but he was the first saint who came to mind, "than the Christian god — he has a smaller sphere of influence, fewer conflicts of interest, and a much more narrowly defined mythology," she assumed, "so there's a clearer idea of who you're trying to talk to — and asking it, whatever Aspect of Magic you're talking to, to do something for you. We'd call that high magic, or high ritual.</p><p>"Some mages are better at it than others, getting Magic's attention, and asking for favours. Lily, for instance—" Mrs. Evans's eyes flicked over to her daughter, tension rolling off both of them nearly thick enough to cut with a knife, but neither of them interrupted. "—gets a greater degree of attention than most people raised in my world, probably because she already understood the idea of an omnipresent, omniscient consciousness being the underlying foundation of the Universe through your religion." Evans looked a bit startled, that probably wasn't where she'd been expecting Aster to go with that, but her mum didn't look mortally offended or outraged, just slightly taken aback — so, again, if she wasn't a <em>complete idiot</em>, she'd be able to build on that, give at least a <em>vague</em> impression of what being a ritualist meant. <em>You're welcome, Evans</em>. "My family has a patron deity, a face of Magic we've been making offerings to and communing with for about five-hundred years or so. She's basically a goddess of destruction and chaos, which, yes, you can make an argument — and believe me, they do — about destruction and chaos being integral aspects of humanity and the natural world, keeping a degree of equilibrium and allowing for change, so society doesn't stagnate and so on, but she's also <em>definitely</em> on board with bigoted racism and mindless violence and starting wars because <em>all the best games have real consequences if you lose</em>.</p><p>"I'm not.</p><p>"I did a ritual over the summer that basically amounted to getting her attention, and telling her in no uncertain terms that I'm out. I want to be a good person — a better person than I was raised to be. I have no interest in continuing to follow a goddess who condones the sort of attitudes and behaviours she does, and there are plenty of other gods I could dedicate myself to instead, and, well... I kind of got myself kicked out of the family over it. They still acknowledge my existence, but I'm disinherited, they want nothing to do with me, and I'm <em>definitely</em> not welcome to come home for hols anymore.</p><p>"It was definitely worth it, though," she concluded firmly, glaring off into the middle distance at her absent family and the Dark and anyone else who had a problem with her, really. (It was kind of impossible to talk about this <em>without</em> ending up glaring at nothing in particular, she'd found.)</p><p>"Oh, you poor thing!" Mrs. Evans exclaimed, dragging Aster's attention back to here and now, sitting in Evans's muggle parlour, talking to her muggle mum about metaphysics.</p><p>Her muggle mum whose eyes were unexpectedly full of tears. "Um... Please don't cry, Missus Evans, it's not so bad, really. All my family are terrible people, we haven't got on in <em>years</em>."</p><p>"No, it's not that." She sniffed, obviously trying to get a hold of herself before she actually started crying. "It sounds like you did the right thing, dear. It takes a lot of...a lot of courage, to walk away from the life you know for the sake of your conscience. It just— You reminded me of my sister, that's all."</p><p>"Mum? Are you talking about Aunt Matilde?"</p><p>Mrs. Evans took a deep, shuddering breath. "I suppose... I suppose this is the closest thing I'm ever going to get to a sign that it's the right time to tell you this, Lily love, but... My sister, the reason we weren't close, was that my parents kicked her out when...when they found out she was a witch."</p><p>"When they— Aunt Matilde was a <em>witch?"</em></p><p>"Yes, love. She... I—"</p><p>"Why didn't you ever <em>tell</em> me?" Evans demanded.</p><p>"I— Because you're <em>my </em>daughter, now! It's—"</p><p><em>"WHAT?!"</em> Mrs. Evans flinched away from the girl she'd just so emphatically claimed as her daughter, poorly-concealed fear playing around her tight lips and widening eyes. Aster grabbed the paisley-patterned pillow from the sofa beside herself, and lobbed it at Evans's face too quickly for her to catch it. "What the <em>hell</em>, Black!"</p><p>"Temper, Evans. We talked about this."</p><p>She went pink, but didn't make any further effort to rein herself in, her eyes still glowing an unnerving shade of green. "Excuse me for being a <em>little</em> bit upset finding out I'm apparently <em>adopted</em>, and— <em>Why</em> would you wait until <em>now</em> to— If Black hadn't brought it up, would you <em>ever</em> have told me?!"</p><p>"I– I don't know," Mrs. Evans stuttered, obviously still disturbed by the look on her daughter's face. "I— She brought you to me when you were just three months old, asked me to keep you safe— She was a detective, an Auror, I mean, and she was afraid this man she was hunting, the leader of some radical cult... They'd caught her once already, the year before — I thought she'd died, everyone did, but she was in hospital with no way to contact anyone, recovering, for months. She'd been...beaten, <em>badly</em>, and left for dead in a fire. She couldn't let him go, but she was terrified he would realise she was still alive and take you or kill you. She... They caught her again. There was no proof, no one was ever caught or charged, but they <em>tortured</em> her, Lily. Into <em>catatonia</em>. And things were only getting worse, over there — Jenny, Jenny Carmichael, she was Tilde's best friend, she told me...terrible things, Lily. Just <em>awful</em>. She offered to take you, raise you with magic, but...but you were already <em>mine</em>, and Freddie and Petunia, they—"</p><p>"Does <em>Tuney</em> know?!"</p><p>"No, no, she doesn't. Your father doesn't either. Tilde did some spell, made them think you were ours, and we moved here, so the neighbors wouldn't notice, and—"</p><p>Evans cut her off, throwing the pillow back at Aster (who <em>was</em> quick enough to catch it). "Clearly it's perfectly acceptable to just go around using memory charms on anyone you damn well please!"</p><p>Aster didn't think Mrs. Evans caught the implication there. "Lily! It was— There were extenuating circumstances! Fred didn't know about magic, he wasn't <em>allowed</em> to know, and Tuney— Petunia was <em>three</em>, it would have been only too easy for her to say something out of turn. Don't— She would never have — not if it hadn't been <em>absolutely necessary</em>."</p><p>"Who's my father, then? My biological father, I mean," Evans demanded, ignoring the completely unnecessary justification.</p><p>"I... She never told me. It– It was odd, really. I think she must have done some spell so I wouldn't ask. I assume she was embarrassed about the indiscretion — more so because, well, I never knew her to talk about...<em>men</em>. She was married to her work, of course, but I always did have my suspicions... But then, she showed up with <em>you</em>, and—"</p><p>"So, wait. You <em>didn't</em> tell me I was adopted, and you thought my mother was a lesbian, and you still had the nerve to throw a hissy when I told you about Cassie?!"</p><p>"Who? What on Earth are you—" She blinked twice, very quickly. "What was I...?"</p><p>"You were telling us about Matilde's mysterious paramour," Sni– <em>Creepy Legilimens Junior</em> informed her, glaring at Evans for referencing an argument her mother obviously had no recollection of.</p><p>"He was probably a Death Eater," Aster said, even as she realised it. "I mean, if Matilde didn't fancy male company, and the timeline fits, with her being assaulted a year before, and Evans being a few months old..."</p><p>"No one said anything about Death Eaters, Black," Snape said, which he <em>had</em> to know was a bloody stupid comment.</p><p>"Oh, yes, because there were <em>so many</em> radical cults really taking off right around Nineteen Fifty-Nine."</p><p>"No one said she was <em>sexually</em> assaulted, either. Though I do recall Mary saying that she <em>nearly died</em> — even if she was, how likely is it that she would have actually conceived while <em>nearly dying</em>?"</p><p><em>Given that Evans </em>clearly exists<em>, I'm going to say it's a probability of one</em>, Aster thought at him — though he didn't react, so he probably wasn't eavesdropping on her at the moment.</p><p>"I don't know how long she was missing before she was presumed dead, so I can't say the timeline<em> does</em> fit," Mrs. Evans added. "I always thought — hoped, I suppose — that he was a doctor, someone she met during her recovery."</p><p>Yeah, right. Aster literally bit her tongue to keep from saying something <em>incredibly disparaging</em> about the muggle matron deluding herself. It didn't matter, she was <em>sure </em>she was right. She wasn't really sure <em>why</em> she was so certain, but she definitely was. The idea of an Auror being attacked and left for dead— Actually, she probably <em>had</em> died, at least long enough to trigger some kind of alert, because the Aurors would have tracked her down if they thought there was any hope that she was alive and she was just lying in a muggle hospital. So, an Auror miraculously escapes almost certain death, actually <em>does</em> die (briefly) and gets resuscitated (either by Magic or muggle necromancy), goes on to recover from whatever injuries <em>actually killed her</em>, and develops some kind of romantic relationship with one of her healers while lying in bed delirious on muggle pain potions? And one she wouldn't really find attractive even if she weren't feeling like death warmed over at that. Maybe in one of Marlene's bloody stupid novels, but <em>life wasn't like that</em>.</p><p>Evans knew it, too. "Can you do a lineage test, Sev?"</p><p>"If you get the ingredients, yes. Though it <em>will</em> take some time. About a month."</p><p>"Ugh, never mind. I'll just ask at Samhain."</p><p>"Samhain?" Mrs. Evans repeated.</p><p>"Festival in honour of the dead," Aster explained briefly, leaving out exactly <em>who</em> Evans would likely be asking. "Next Sunday." Still more than a week away. It would probably be faster to just write Bella and ask who had been involved that early on — there couldn't be <em>that</em> many potential candidates. Maybe one of the Rosiers, or a Stryke? It would help if she knew what Matilde had looked like, but Evans's face was thinner than most of the Nobles', her mouth wider. She didn't really look like any of the families that generally had a lot of redheads, Prewetts and Weasleys and Boneses, but if her hair were darker...</p><p>"So you...talk to dead people?"</p><p>"Well, no...not exactly." Evans's eyes flashed again, glaring at Aster as though <em>she </em>was the one who'd brought the bloody subject up, which—</p><p>Oh.</p><p>Oh, <em>fuck</em>...</p><p>If her hair were darker and her eyes were <em>blue</em>, that would be fucking <em>uncanny</em>. And de Mort was <em>absolutely </em>the sort of prick who'd rape an Auror and leave her to die in a fire. And if he had, Bella would almost <em>certainly</em> know about it — she would've been nine or so at the time, already apprenticed to him...</p><p>It seemed <em>completely absurd</em>, but now that she'd seen it she couldn't <em>un-see</em> it... Bloody hell, she even <em>sounded</em> like him, explaining how Death worked, in the vaguest possible terms.</p><p>Yeah, Aster was <em>definitely</em> writing Bella when they got back to the castle.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Now for something completely different</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Sirius!" a familiar voice shouted at her as she followed Evans back into the Common Room, still trying to think how to word a letter asking if Bella knew anything about de Mort fucking a muggleborn Auror about seventeen years ago.</p><p>"Jamie?" she answered, rather distractedly. "What's up, mate? You seem a bit..." Panicked. He seemed a bit panicked. "Has something happened?"</p><p>"You— I was worried about you!" he exclaimed, looking slightly ashamed even as he said it, which, yeah, that <em>was</em> a bit of an overreaction, she'd just seen him <em>yesterday</em>. "Er, Lily, hi," he added, running his fingers awkwardly through his messy Potter hair as he always did when he was nervous or embarrassed. "Um..."</p><p>"Potter," she said coolly, glaring at him in a <em>don't you dare say whatever you're thinking of saying</em> sort of way.</p><p>Aster had gotten that look <em>several</em> times in the past few hours but she'd just ignored it, because what was Evans going to do, sitting there in front of her muggle mum? She couldn't pretend she <em>didn't know</em> she was adopted and her mum had lied to her for her entire life, so she couldn't make Sni– <em>Snape</em> forget that she'd told her, which meant she also still remembered everything <em>else</em> Aster had told her, because at a certain point they'd be taking away so much context that it would be <em>bloody obvious</em> someone had done <em>something</em> to her memories, <em>especially</em> since she apparently knew memory charms existed.</p><p>Evans's mum — she'd said to call her Mary, though Aster would probably continue to think of her as Evans's mum — had come out of the conversation with the impression that her daughter had found religion in a way she really hadn't as a child (a religion that called the Christian god by a different name, but was still talking about what one might reasonably think <em>could be</em> the same consciousness)...or possibly that she was a prophet of some sort, but a relatively <em>minor</em> one who <em>didn't</em> have a giant monotheistic god talking to her in her dreams, and had to call on or pray to lesser deities like saints or whatever if she actually wanted to talk to <em>them </em>(which Aster was pretty sure every single Aspect she'd ever heard of would take offence to being called a <em>lesser</em> deity, but compared to <em>all of Magic</em> they were). Evans had, at one point, tried to deflect the conversation from herself by shifting it back to Aster and <em>her</em> family's religion, so Mrs. Evans was now kind of under the (slightly horrified) impression that the Blacks were evil devil-worshipers who sacrificed babies in unholy rituals, which was kind of amusing, even if it wasn't <em>entirely</em> wrong. The Dark was a bit more into madness and destruction than she understood the Christian devil to be and babies were, generally speaking, kind of shite sacrifices (she'd managed not to actually say aloud), but she was certain that the Christian devil was part of the Dark, so. Aster had come out of the whole conversation looking <em>great</em>, because she'd been chucked out of her devil-worshiping family for refusing to participate in their evil ways. (<em>Suck it, Evans.</em>)</p><p>The mention of Death Eaters and Aster's theory that one of them was Evans's sire had led to a conversation about the current state of politics, which was probably less awkward than Snape had anticipated, because Mrs. Evans already knew that there <em>was</em> a war of some sort going on (and at least some of the horrible things magic could do), her information was just about a decade out of date. When asked how she knew so much about all of this, Aster <em>had</em> at least managed not to blurt out that the cousin she mentioned kind of a lot — Bella was apparently more important in her life than she'd realised before trying to talk about literally anything to do with magic or history or politics or <em>anything</em> — was actually the Dark Lord's consort. At one point, Mrs. Evans had asked about Bella specifically because Aster mentioned her so often. She'd thought...<em>Snape</em> was going to have a fit or something when she explained that she was...sort of like a performance artist? and sort of a philanthropist and political activist. Very <em>avant garde</em>. Honestly, she couldn't even imagine what the closest equivalent to what Bella actually <em>did</em> was in the muggle world. Some sort of military position, maybe? (There wasn't even <em>really</em> an equivalent in upstanding society in <em>magical</em> world.)</p><p>Really, between that and the long and convoluted theological conversation, Aster was pretty sure Evans's mum had completely forgotten about Aster recently having been a boy. And then Evans's sister and father came home, and they'd all had to act like they <em>hadn't</em> just been talking about Evans being adopted and Britain being full of violent lunatics with the ability to alter laws of nature at will.</p><p>Shortly after <em>that</em> they'd escaped with the excuse that Aster still needed to go buy trousers, because...<em>Snape</em> hadn't been exaggerating when he said Mr. Evans hated him more than Jamie, and Evans thought Aster was having too much fun subtly mocking her sister's attempts to appear better-off than she obviously was, talking about her fiancé and his (impressive?) office job as a low-level manager (<em>my Vernon's just been </em>promoted<em>, you see</em>) in a company that sold drills (which Aster gathered was an electric tool of some sort). She also kept attempting to make digs at the three of them for being 'freaks' (i.e., <em>mages</em>) which fell <em>incredibly</em> flat, because who cared what their prospects might be in 'the real world'? Not to mention, it should have been obvious just <em>looking</em> at Aster that she was the social better of the Evanses in every possible way — magical and muggle fashions <em>were </em>very different, but even if she didn't quite fit Petunia's expectations for <em>posh</em>, anyone with social ambitions should know that perfectly fitted bespoke clothing was <em>always</em> an indicator of class, and the entire House of Black had a very refined <em>never done a hard day's work in our lives</em> sort of beauty about them.</p><p>"I'll leave you two to catch up," Evans said, extracting herself from the conversation a bit more neatly than they'd managed to get out of her parents' house. (They never <em>had</em> gotten to the whole television-watching part of the visit, which Aster found slightly disappointing.) "Since Potter apparently starts pining around the twenty-four hour mark."</p><p>"What, <em>no</em>! I wasn't <em>pining</em>! I was <em>worried!"</em></p><p>"Just keep telling yourself that, Potter!" Evans called over her shoulder heading toward what appeared to be an informal prefects' meeting in a relatively secluded corner. It <em>kind of</em> looked like Remus was in some sort of trouble, arguing with them over...she didn't know, they had anti-eavesdropping spells up, and she was too far away to hear anyway.</p><p>"Is Moony okay?" she asked.</p><p>"What? Yes, he's <em>fine</em>, he just decided that he wants to resign as a prefect because of...you know, <em>everything</em>."</p><p>"<em>What?</em> I didn't mean— None of it was his fault!"</p><p>"Yeah, well, you do a lot of shite you <em>didn't mean</em>, don't you?" Jamie obviously still wasn't entirely over...pretty much everything that had happened this term. Aster cringed slightly. James gave a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair again. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I just— Mum sent me a letter when you didn't show up to McKinnon's—" <em>Shite!</em> She'd completely forgotten about the mind healer, and the appointment she was supposed to have had today. Oops. "And I couldn't find you, I've been worrying about you all day, and..."</p><p>"And <em>what?</em> This is what happens when we don't sleep in the same dorm, Jamie — we occasionally don't see each other for more than a few hours at a time."</p><p>James glared at her sarcasm, but seriously, why did he <em>think</em> she hadn't wanted to leave? Kicking her out of the dorm changed a <em>hell</em> of a lot more than her becoming a girl! "Look, can we...sit? And, you know, talk?"</p><p>Because apparently you needed to formally ask permission to have a conversation with girls? "No, come on," she said, grabbing him by the shoulder and marching him toward the portrait hole.</p><p>"What— Sirius! Where are we—"</p><p>"We're going for a walk, or flying, maybe. I'm tired of <em>sitting around talking</em>. D'you know, I spent all bloody day with <em>Evans</em>, <em>and</em> Sni– <em>Snape</em>, <em>and</em> her bloody <em>mum</em>, yammering on about bloody <em>theology</em> and magic theory dragonshite?" Not that she didn't kind of enjoy dancing circles around the truth, but she couldn't stand the thought of <em>more sitting</em>. <em>"And</em> last night we missed dinner because— Did you know the girls' dorm is like, split up? I mean, the seventh- and fifth-years' look pretty much like ours, but Evans and Marley and everyone, they put up these bloody huge sheets and—"</p><p>"When've you been in the girls' dorms?" James interrupted.</p><p>Aster snorted at his accusatory tone. "Bloody hell, I don't <em>know</em>, just you know, <em>whenever!</em> Some birds like a <em>bed</em> to shag on, occasionally — seems a bit classier than an empty classroom, you see — and you <em>know</em> I wasn't about to bring them back to <em>our</em> room, you fuckers are complete slobs!"</p><p>"Well, <em>yeah</em>, fine, that makes sense, but how'd you get up the stairs?"</p><p>What kind of bloody stupid question was that? "I...walked?"</p><p>"Don't be a fucking wanker, Siriu— Er, sorry. I mean, don't be dense!" Aster scowled, though not at the insult — why the hell <em>shouldn't</em> he call her a fucking wanker if she was being one? (That she <em>wasn't</em> wasn't really the point.) "Boys can't go up the girls' stairs! It turns into, like, a bloody <em>slide</em>, doesn't it?"</p><p>"Well, only if you're planning on doing something ungentlemanly." Technically, if you thought you shouldn't be allowed up, felt guilty and uncomfortable about entering a girls-only area, or were planning on doing something that was going to make other people uncomfortable, like pranking them or spying on them in their underwear.</p><p>"And shagging the girls silly doesn't count?" he said, as though he didn't believe her, honestly!</p><p>Aster rolled her eyes at him, leading him off toward the Scrying Tower, because much as she might prefer to wander the grounds or the edge of the woods Jamie was <em>weird</em> about going outside without shoes. "Not as long as they finish first. <em>Obviously</em>." <em>This</em> was why James never got laid, she was sure of it. Well, that and his unreasonable obsession with Evans — though, come to think of it, he might appreciate the fact that she'd never do him, because it meant there was no pressure to actually put out. "Anyway, the girls've put up these giant sheets and enchanted them so they all have their own space because, you know, Ellie and Erin have been shagging for years, and apparently Tina snores and, get this, apparently no one else wants to sleep in the same room as Evans!"</p><p>"What? Why not?"</p><p>"Why do you think, James?"</p><p>"I wouldn't've asked if I <em>knew</em>, would I?"</p><p>"Evans is a fucking crazy person. You know this. I've only told you about a <em>million</em> times, now!"</p><p>"She is <em>not!"</em></p><p>"You are <em>so</em> fucking deluded! She'd be the first person to tell you that she <em>is</em>, because she doesn't want to have anything to fucking <em>do</em> with you, because you can't see that she's a fucking crazy person!"</p><p>"That doesn't even make any sense, Sirius."</p><p>"Yes, it does. <em>Perfect prefect, muggleborn golden girl Evans</em> is a bloody <em>act</em>. She's not even <em>really</em> a muggleborn!" James pulled an expression of outrage at her, but she talked over him. "And no, this is not about the whole <em>Evans is a fucking traditionalist</em> thing, or the way she goes out of her way to act like a normal witch, I mean she's <em>literally</em> not muggleborn. She's <em>adopted</em>."</p><p>"<em>What?!"</em> Jamie stopped dead, half-way up a hidden staircase. "But I've heard her talk about her muggle sister before!"</p><p>"Yeah, well, she didn't know, did she? Just found out today."</p><p>"Fuck, is she <em>okay?"</em></p><p>"Are <em>you</em> okay? First you're all worried about <em>me</em>, and now—"</p><p>"<em>I'm fine</em>! You're the one who skipped dinner last night and then disappeared like you were off sulking again! And yeah, <em>is she okay</em> is a perfectly normal response to finding out that one of your friends just found out she's adopted!"</p><p>"Oh, fuck off, it's not your job to watch me and make sure I fucking eat. I'm not <em>that</em> fucking fragile, moron! I <em>told you</em>, I'd tell you if I needed you to listen to me. And even if I don't, apparently it's pretty fucking obvious when I start to fall off the deep end — ask Pete if you can't tell, <em>he</em> spotted it! And Evans is fucking furious with her mother for lying to her about being adopted for the last sixteen years, but aside from <em>that</em> her nonexistent feelings are perfectly fine." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "And you two aren't friends."</p><p>Honestly, she wasn't entirely sure Evans really <em>had</em> friends. Sni– <em>Snape</em> was more like a <em>follower</em> (albeit one who snarked back while doing exactly what she told him to — mark another tally for the <em>Lily de Mort</em> theory, seriously, she needed to send that letter, she was <em>sure</em> she wasn't going to be able to sleep until she had), and yeah, she did hang out with Pandora, and she and Cassie were...<em>kind of</em> a regular thing? maybe? But Aster was pretty sure Evans liked hanging out with Pandora because she was just so fucking <em>placid</em> it was impossible to offend or disturb her, and all Evans and Cass really had in common was their love of running around in the Forest shagging and riding unicorns. Honestly, Aster didn't think Cassie would really like the real Evans much more than Jamie would.</p><p>"We <em>are</em>—" Jamie began, before reality overtook his offended pride. "Okay, fine, maybe we're not, but that doesn't mean you can go around acting like she doesn't have feelings, Sirius! Finding out you're adopted is a <em>big deal</em> — are you <em>sure</em>—"</p><p>"Yes, James, you fucking prat. She's fine. Even if she weren't a bloody psychopath, she's not the sort of girl to go cry into her cat because, surprise, her mum was actually an Auror and she's dead now, but who gives a fuck, because she never actually met the woman."</p><p>"Her mother was an <em>Auror?</em> Who? Would we have heard of her?"</p><p>"Well, I hadn't. Matilde Harrison, muggleborn — Missus Evans was her sister. She was tortured into catatonia back in Sixty-One, probably by de Mort. She was investigating the Knights of Walpurgis, I figure they made a fucking example of her."</p><p>"<em>What?</em> But, what about Lily's father? Did they kill him, too, or something?"</p><p>"No idea," Aster lied. She didn't even have to try to tell him to know that James wouldn't believe her if she told him Evans's father was <em>probably</em> a Death Eater — most likely Lord Snakefucker himself. ...Though, assuming Evans's mother wasn't actually a snake, that did raise questions about why he'd been raping her in the first place, she obviously wouldn't have been his type...</p><p>Whatever, bad train of thought. <em>Focus on Jamie, Aster!</em></p><p>"I should... I should try to talk to her, or something, just to make sure..."</p><p>"Just to make sure I'm not having you on about her being perfectly fine? Don't. She won't appreciate it. She <em>especially </em>won't appreciate it if you go implying that she <em>should</em> be feeling something other than rather annoyed and making her put on some sort of vaguely-upset-but-pretending-not-to-be-with-enough-realistic-looking-false-slips-to-imply-it's-not-an-act act."</p><p>Jamie made an inarticulate noise of frustration, bypassing the hidden stair that led to Aster's favourite tower in favour of a nearby balcony. "I don't suppose it ever occurred to you that <em>maybe it's really not an act?!"</em></p><p>"Nope." He made the noise again, hands waving now as well. They were about two exchanges away from actually screaming at her for insulting his True Love, she expected. "Look. James. The girl you are in love with doesn't exist. She's a character. A mask. A part Evans plays because she's <em>expected</em> to."</p><p>"Not everyone is <em>you</em>, Sirius!"</p><p>No fucking shite? <em>"Most people</em> aren't <em>me</em>, James! This isn't me projecting or whatever, this is me telling you you're in love with a fucking <em>fiction</em>! I've spent more time talking to Evans in the past twenty-six hours than you have in your <em>entire life</em>, and I'm telling you the <em>real</em> Lily Evans — the Evans who enjoys being nemeses but threatened to kill me if I didn't drop my vendetta against her and Sniv– <em>Snape</em> so they can spend all their time harassing the baby Death Eaters; the Evans who managed to wrangle a spot as a bloody <em>anchor</em> in the Samhain ritual and dragged me through a fucking adder stone today; the Evans who—" She cut herself off, because, well, probably shouldn't go telling Jamie that Evans talked to Magic in her dreams. Even if he <em>did</em> believe her, he probably wouldn't take it well. Not that she <em>wanted</em> him to take it well, but it would <em>probably</em> be breaking their truce if she started just telling people that Evans was a fucking black mage, or so close it really made no fucking difference. "—who's been friends with <em>Severus fucking Snape</em> since they were <em>five</em> and goes all glowy-eyed when she's angry and seduces people to ruin their friendships and likes it rough enough to leave marks — is <em>not</em> the girl you're in love with, and would, in fact, scare the fucking shite out of you!"</p><p>James actually moved as though he was going to throw a punch at her, before apparently abruptly realising that she was female, now and hitting girls was just <em>not on</em>. "Sirius, I swear to God, I'm trying not to hurt you, here, but if you don't lay off her—"</p><p>"Evans — the <em>real</em> Evans — would fit right in with my family. I wouldn't be <em>at all</em> shocked to find out that her sire was actually a Black," <em>or the bloody Dark Lord,</em> "and if you want to take a swing, go ahead, but that doesn't make it any less true!"</p><p>"I'm not going to hit a girl, Sirius!"</p><p>"You said you weren't going to treat me like a girl, James!"</p><p>"It's not that— You're fucking <em>tiny</em>, okay? It'd be like punching a second-year!"</p><p>She belted him in the stomach, and when he doubled over elbowed him in the nose. She didn't hear a crunch, but she was pretty sure he'd be bleeding, which was exactly what she was going for. Sending him to Pomfrey with a broken nose would probably be a bit <em>much</em>.</p><p>"Christ, Sirius, what the <em>fuck!"</em></p><p>"I'd still be a second-year who could kick your fucking arse, you sexist prick! I'm trying to <em>help</em> you, here! Evans is not the girl you think she is. She's not just playing hard-to-get, she <em>really</em> doesn't like you!"</p><p>"I think you broke my fucking nose, you violent little shite!"</p><p>A grin twitched at her lips. That was <em>much</em> better. Normal James Potter reaction. No more of that <em>but you're a </em>girl shite.</p><p>"I did not, don't be thick." She hopped up on the balcony railing — a perfectly flat, six-inch-wide stone balustrade, there was really no cause for the slightly-scared, horrified resignation on Jamie's face (resigned because he was well aware that asking her not to stand somewhere that she might fall seventy-odd feet if she lost her balance would have no effect whatsoever, they'd had that conversation before) — pacing the ten meter arc from one end to the other. "Look. You don't believe me. Fine. Just, come to Samhain this year, you can see for yourself—"</p><p>"I dunno, Pads," Jamie said thickly, sinking to the floor with his back against the wall, prodding at his nose. It was already swelling, and he was going to have a <em>stellar</em> pair of black eyes in a couple of hours, but she stood by it not being broken. "I'm... It's just...<em>not</em> my thing, you know? The whole <em>Powers</em> thing. And besides, it's a Slytherin thing, I don't want to just...show up."</p><p>"It's not just a Slytherin thing. <em>I'm</em> going, aren't I? And the whole point is Evans is actually part of the ritual this year, so obviously <em>she'll</em> be there." Probably quite a few others, too — Samhain and Walpurgis were pretty much open secrets, anyone who wanted to come was welcome.</p><p>"Well, yeah, but you're...you know, and she's muggleborn, or muggle-raised, at least, I don't think she really—"</p><p>"Don't you dare say she doesn't understand, James." She ignored the awkwardly avoided <em>but you're a Black</em>.</p><p>"Well, I don't think she does!"</p><p>"The people who organise this? They take it seriously. She's one of the bloody <em>anchors</em>, okay? That means she's a major focal point for the ritual, directing the power they call and giving it <em>purpose</em>, channeling it into the shape the ritual provides, giving it <em>form</em>. She knows what she's doing. They wouldn't let her if she didn't. <em>You're</em> the one who thinks this is completely ridiculous, superstitious nonsense."</p><p>"There's really no <em>proof</em>, Sirius, you know that!"</p><p>"Yeah, well, tell that to the fucking Dark, James. Tell that to the kind of magic that can take you apart down to your fundamental identity, <em>change it</em>, and put you back together again on a bloody <em>whim</em>, just because you've offended it, and it wants to see you suffer through the metamorphosis — which hurts like fucking <em>hell</em>, by the way."</p><p>"Wait, <em>what?</em> You mean— You don't mean that's— That's not how you got turned into a girl, is it? I thought you said..."</p><p>Er...fuck. She hadn't actually meant to tell him that. "Well, I wasn't going to go around telling people the Dark decided to punish me for breaking the family Covenant with it by turning me into a fucking girl, was I?"</p><p>"Er..."</p><p>"NO, James. The answer is, <em>no</em>, I wasn't, because that's black magic. <em>Real</em> black magic, not the soft-core kiddie rituals we're allowed to do here at school. <em>Gods walking the earth, meddling in the lives of chosen mortals</em> black magic. And I know you think I'm insane, okay, and yes, I definitely am, but I'm right about this. The Powers are not a delusion, Magic has its own consciousness, and Evans is a hell of a lot more aware of that than you. She does understand what's going on with the rituals, on a level you, quite frankly, are <em>never</em> going to get. But it doesn't really <em>matter </em>if you get it or not — this is important <em>to her</em>. If you really want to have any chance with her at all, you should go, and try not to be an ignorant, patronising fuck about it."</p><p>Not, of course, that Aster thought Jamie attending Samhain <em>would</em> help him get into Evans's pants. It would <em>probably </em>just make him a little uneasy about wanting her. Depending on what this surprise was she had planned for the Sacrifice of Feeling, though, it <em>might</em> be enough to shatter the illusion that <em>Prefect Evans</em> was anything <em>other</em> than an act. There was really no down-side.</p><p>Either Jamie was trying not to be an ignorant, patronising fuck <em>right now</em>, or he thought Evans (and his complete lack of a relationship with her) was more important than the Powers, it really could go either way. "Really, Sirius? You've been on speaking terms with her for all of <em>one day</em>, and suddenly you're a bloody expert?"</p><p>She lowered herself carefully to sit with her own back against the wall as well, one foot dangling on the inside of the balcony so she wouldn't forget she was on a bloody railing and tip over and die, the other pulled up so she could rest her head on her knee. "Jamie, darling. Duckie. Love. I've been on speaking terms with her for all of one day, and I've realised how important this is to her. That probably means it's pretty fucking important, yes? And you don't <em>have</em> to be an expert at girls or relationships or whatever to know that if something is important to the bird you're trying to woo, you damn well act like it's fucking important! You <em>don't</em> act like they're mad or befuddled or have had their poor little muggle-raised heads turned by the crazy, deep-magic cultists out to subvert their capacity for reason and rationality."</p><p>"I've never said she was..."</p><p>"Oh, come off it, you didn't <em>have</em> to say it. Doesn't mean you weren't thinking it."</p><p>"Well, <em>yeah</em>, but when you put it like <em>that</em>..."</p><p>"...it's easier to understand why she thinks you're a fucking toerag?"</p><p>"Well, a <em>bit</em>, yeah, kind of. But it's not— I didn't mean it like—"</p><p>"Mate. Just stop. Come to the ritual, actually see her in her element for once, instead of pretending to be something she's really, <em>really</em> not, maybe attempt to remove your head from your sphincter long enough to say something that isn't an outright insult to her religion or her intelligence—"</p><p>"Ugh, fine, I'll come, shut up. And would you fix my fucking nose already? I think it might <em>actually</em> be broken!"</p><p>"Sorry, never learned a spell to fix an ugly mug."</p><p>"<em>Sirius</em>..."</p><p>Aster sniggered, flicking off a charm to reduce swelling and bruising. "You really should learn to do healing charms on yourself, you know. Basic first-aid, at <em>least</em>. I mean, you haven't changed your mind about becoming an Auror since <em>yesterday</em>, have you?"</p><p>"Ha. Bloody. Ha." The effect was obvious immediately, his voice <em>much</em> clearer.</p><p>"No, seriously," she said, digging a pack of cigarettes out of the (tiny) pocket of her new, girl-shaped jeans and lighting one with a snap of her fingers. (She loved that trick, <em>so</em> worth all the hours she'd spent practicing it.) "Remy's resigning as prefect? What else have I missed?"</p><p>Jamie sighed. "Not <em>that</em> much..."</p><p>Yeah, she'd be the judge of that, thanks very much. "Start talking."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Last chapter for a bit while I work on rounding out the next cluster of scenes - Samhain.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Welcome to the Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bella thought Aster was being ridiculous when she asked whether it was possible de Mort had any illegitimate children running around Britain, because her new roommate reminded her of the snakey bastard, and just humour me, Bella, <em>please</em>.</p><p>Well, her first response had been, <em>I doubt it. Why do you ask?</em></p><p>It was after Aster had sent her a <em>second</em> letter, scribbled on the back of her response and sent back without even reading the rest of it, let alone responding to it <em>(Because Evans keeps reminding me of him, and we just found out she's adopted, and just humour me, </em><em>is it possible</em><em>?!)</em>, that she'd said Aster was being ridiculous. Particularly in her punctuation and sentence structure, but also in general. De Mort couldn't have children, he'd sacrificed his ability to do so in a ritual well before Aster was born — and (she'd realised after Bella assured her he wasn't Evans's father) even if he hadn't, who knew what weird side effects fucking about with cross-species blood alchemy might have. It was entirely possible he'd <em>never</em> been able to have human children, or at least not accidentally. (Of course, she didn't <em>know</em> that, but it seemed like reasonable speculation to her.)</p><p>So she definitely hadn't been expecting to be hit from behind with a dark-shaded stinging jinx, right over the heart, as she and Evans meandered through Hogsmeade avoiding Jamie, Narcissa, and anyone who'd have a problem with Evans being a bit more unnerving than usual because it was Samhain. Which was practically everyone — even <em>Snape</em> had come up with some excuse to be elsewhere after ascertaining that yes, Aster would make sure Evans didn't do anything insane in public...or at least anything that would get her arrested. (Not like it was hard, as long as she didn't go talking to people and alerting them to the fact that she was a bit fae at the moment. In both the obviously preoccupied by magic sense and the vaguely sociopathic and/or inhuman sense.)</p><p>Not that Aster was particularly keen on avoiding Jamie <em>or </em>minding Evans, but she <em>had</em> had to admit that his little freak-out when he hadn't been able to find her last Saturday suggested that maybe she should try playing a bit hard-to-get rather than throwing herself at him. Granted, he'd mostly been concerned that she was sulking in the girls' dorm (<em>actually</em> sulking, not code-for-masturbating sulking) and refusing to eat again because he'd colluded with the rest of those wankers to kick her out of <em>their</em> dorm with no warning whatsoever, and he hadn't seen her for over twenty-four hours afterward. But she had to admit, that <em>was</em> one of the more obvious things he liked about Prefect Evans — attempting to woo her was a challenge. Of course, Aster couldn't <em>completely ignore him</em>, because he wasn't unreasonably obsessed with <em>her</em>. (Yet. ...And yes, because she actually <em>was</em> unreasonably obsessed with him, but that wasn't the point.) It was still probably a good idea not to force her company on him <em>all the time</em>. (<em>She</em> thought she was <em>great</em> company, but she was well aware that even the other Marauders thought that she could be a bit overwhelming.)</p><p>So when Evans told Jamie she couldn't go to the Samhain Students' Weekend with him because they (she and Aster) were having a roommate bonding day — because yes, Potter, this is a thing girls <em>do</em>, making nice with their roommates, even incredibly annoying roommates who only recently became girls — she'd agreed to play along. Mostly because Evans had managed to say that <em>completely</em> straight-faced despite the fact that she hadn't 'made nice' with any of her other six roommates for <em>years</em>. It had only been a week, and the fact that Aster <em>wasn't</em> uncomfortable sleeping in her part of the room already had Ellie and Mary asking leading questions, hinting that Aster <em>had</em> to be a bit mad herself (as though that wasn't <em>patently obvious</em>) if she hadn't noticed Evans was kind of creepy. Which of course she had, that was also patently obvious, it was just she knew the difference between creepy and malicious, which Evans actually <em>wasn't</em>. She might occasionally say unnerving shite — like, <em>yes, of course I know what kind of rituals they used to do here a thousand years ago, </em>I was there — but it wasn't like Aster thought she was going to try to murder her in her sleep for leaving a wet towel on the floor (unlike certain Narcissas she could name).</p><p>And she apparently really didn't have a problem with Aster's disregard for clothes and the concept of personal property. She <em>had</em> forbidden Aster to open any locked drawers in her desk, so that was probably where she was keeping any illegal books she might have, and her personal grimoire and/or diary, but that was fine. It <em>was</em> slightly tempting to break in to see what Evans was hiding, exactly, but Aster wasn't going to break their truce over something so trivial, and it wasn't like she was going to forget that she wasn't supposed to borrow shite it actually took effort to access the same way she grabbed whichever copy of their potions textbook she happened to spot first when she was packing her bag in the morning. Evans had actually been <em>pleased</em> with Aster expanding the interior of her wardrobe so they could just share and get rid of Aster's, which was something Aster had been trying to convince the boys to do for <em>years</em>. (She really, <em>really</em> didn't like not having any space to <em>move</em> in the room.) Honestly, she'd kind of expected the prefect to refuse too, which was why she hadn't told her she was doing it, just presented it as a <em>fait accompli</em>. Really, dealing with Evans being a bit fae on occasion was probably far less annoying than everyone else apparently found living with Aster.</p><p>For example, people who didn't live with Aster didn't generally have to worry about being ambushed by crazy people in the middle of Hogsmeade.</p><p>She yelped as the curse struck, the dark twist on it making it sting magically as well as physically. Evans hadn't managed to get a single word out ("Wha—?") before she'd spun to face her attacker, wand in hand. Bella, being Bella, was faster — and also cheated, stepping out of a shadow behind her to jab her in the right shoulder blade with a <em>caloris</em>. Aster yelped and spun around again. "Bella! Stop it! You're going to burn a hole in my shirt!"</p><p>"And whose fault is that?" she asked, grinning like a lunatic.</p><p>"I know where you're going with this, and no one is going to mistake <em>me</em> for <em>you</em> wearing <em>this</em>," a Led Zeppelin concert tee-shirt she'd found in a resale shop over the summer, "so piss off! What the fuck are you even <em>doing</em> here?"</p><p>"Well, technically I'm chaperoning Cissy and Lucy's very prim and proper and <em>boring</em> luncheon, but it's not like he'd do anything scandalous even if she begged for it, so since he was the one who thought they ought to have a chaperone to sit four feet away from each other and make small talk in the middle of a crowded restaurant, I decided Cissy can defend her own honour. Or lack thereof — I don't know, she tells me more about <em>your</em> sex life than hers, could be a bigger slut than Zee for all I know. Going to introduce me?"</p><p>Aster rolled her eyes. "Do either of you <em>not</em> know who the other is?"</p><p>"Well, <em>no</em>. Or, well, I <em>assume</em> I need no introduction," Bella said, raising an eyebrow in Evans's direction in silent question.</p><p>"Aster <em>did</em> mention your name a moment ago, Miss Black," Evans said coolly, in a tone which might have been meant to be an imitation of Cissy, but was a little too openly impatient and annoyed to pass. Not to mention, no one called Bella <em>Miss Black</em>.</p><p>Apparently Bella thought it was as weird to hear herself referred to as <em>Miss Black</em> as Aster did. "If you want to be formal, it's <em>my Lady</em>. Otherwise, Bellatrix. Bella, if you like. And you're the Lily Evans I've heard so much about."</p><p>Evans shrugged, abandoning her Narcissa impression. "I'm certainly <em>some</em> Lily Evans. Probably not one you've heard much about, though. And you're not <em>my</em> lady, so I suppose formality is right out. Bella."</p><p>Bella giggled. "You'd be surprised. Little Aster's never been good at keeping secrets from me, and you may have heard I have a lot of friends in dark places. Asphodel."</p><p>"Oh." Evans looked slightly flummoxed. "Maybe I am the Lily Evans you've heard about, then. Why were you asking about me in <em>Knockturn</em> of all places?"</p><p>"Wait, stop!" Aster demanded.</p><p>"What?" Evans asked.</p><p>Bella smirked, eyes flicking from Aster to Evans and back. "You didn't tell her your theory?"</p><p>"A, <em>no</em>, and B, you said I was wrong! And C, we are <em>not</em> talking about this in the middle of the Hogsmeade high-street! And D, why am <em>I</em> the voice of reason right now?"</p><p>"Because little Asphodel here has no idea what we're talking about, and I really don't care if people overhear me discussing—" She broke off, grinning. "But that's fine. We can go to lunch. Any preference?"</p><p>"Somewhere I won't be seen talking to you?" Aster suggested. Not that plenty of people hadn't already seen them talking <em>right now</em>, but being accosted in the middle of the street wasn't really the same as being spotted having a civil conversation over a meal. "And I'm pretty sure Evans only speaks English."</p><p>"<em>Well then, you can translate the menu for her</em>," Bella said, in French, stepping forward to link her arms through both of theirs and dragging the lot of them into the Space Between.</p><p>When she pulled them back into the mundane plane, they were in the courtyard of a restaurant which, like the last place Bella had dragged Aster to, was tiny and otherwise deserted. This one seemed to be a pizzeria, though, and the host greeted them in Italian, before realising Aster and Evans couldn't understand him, and switching to French to offer them a table.</p><p>"You know I don't speak Italian," Aster pointed out, as their host bustled off to fetch drinks.</p><p>"I was going to take you to Café Louis, but I changed my mind." In the half second between making that quip and apparating all three of them, because of course she had. "Their lunch crowd is obnoxious. And in answer to <em>your</em> question," she added, turning to Evans, "I was asking about you in Knockturn because someone suggested you reminded her of my Lord, and I happened to recall someone <em>else</em> recently asking me whether he has a daughter — I believe you met my cousin Cian at the Bookshop over the summer. Or, well, saw him at least, I'd be shocked if he introduced himself."</p><p>"Oh, he did, actually. Rosier, right? He saw I was looking at a copy of Dearborn's response to Flanders's Metaphysics and suggested I have a look at a certain series of essays if I was interested in arithmantic descriptions of cross-planar interactions."</p><p>Bella rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, the Ochiá essays? Or did he actually send you after the time articles?"</p><p>"Ochiá — he wasn't wrong, they are bloody <em>brilliant</em>, even if they're <em>completely</em> tangential to what I was looking for. I'm guessing you've read them?"</p><p>"I <em>wrote</em> them." Evans did a bit of a double-take — understandable, Aster guessed, Bella was much better known for being a violent crazy person than a fucking genius, especially among people who knew de Mort was the Dark Lord. Bella's role in the Death Eaters wasn't really well-known outside of the organisation, but the baby Death Eaters would obviously be aware that she trained new recruits and Aster had told the Marauders, so there were rumours around, even if there wasn't any actual <em>proof</em>. There <em>was</em> proof of her brutally humiliating half a dozen would-be suitors' Heads of House in public duels when she was Aster's age, though — some of them still hadn't forgiven Arcturus — and the whole thing at the Festa Morgana. Even if people didn't know she was a bloody Dark Lady, they <em>did</em> know she was fucking terrifying. "What were you looking for?"</p><p>Aster groaned. Even if <em>Evans </em>was interested in highly technical discussions of magical theory, <em>she</em> definitely <em>wasn't</em>.</p><p>"Er... Using arithmancy to describe ritual spells, and how that's different from using it to describe potions, because Professor Slughorn says they're different disciplines but I couldn't really find anything on it. I...didn't know you were an arithmancer?"</p><p>Bella smirked at her, probably just as aware as Aster of her reputation outside of her little cult. "I'm not, really. I dabble." <em>Oh, yes, because most people who dabble in a subject have published essays in professional journals — really Bella? </em>"You couldn't find anything because potion-making and alchemy are, for descriptive purposes, exactly the same as low ritual. They're only considered their own disciplines for political reasons. For high ritual, Aspects are characterised in much the same way you would a person in a predictive model, except they're influenced by the understanding of the person who invokes them, so there's no universal characterisation for any of them, which makes describing any given ritual for anyone else a bit worthless."</p><p>"Oh. But then—"</p><p>"Oh, thank God! Wine!" Aster exclaimed as their host returned. "<em>Thank you, Luca, my hero. If I have to listen to endless nerdy arithmancy shite, I would infinitely prefer to be pissed while doing so</em>."</p><p>Luca seemed slightly startled by her vehemence, almost spilled pouring her wine, but recovered quickly. "<em>You are very welcome, young lady. We will have food for you all shortly.</em>"</p><p>Bella echoed her thanks as he excused himself again.</p><p>"I take it you don't come to this place for the talk?"</p><p>"Not to talk to the <em>staff</em>. Did you not notice the anti-eavesdropping charms?" Well, now that she pointed it out, there were kind of a lot of them... "And it's more private than the Parliament. They're technically not open for lunch at all, but they're friends of Zee's aunt Adara, so we get special treatment."</p><p>Adara was a metamorph <em>and </em>a mind mage, which was just cheating at life. At least one of her personae was supposedly a notorious grifter and jewel thief — this place was probably a front for the Mafia or something.</p><p>"Ah, care to fill me in on what all that was about?" Evans asked.</p><p>"Just Asteria being a lush."</p><p>"Fuck you, Bella."</p><p>"I'm up for it if you are, <em>carina</em>. Though, not right now, I <em>did</em> track you down for a reason." Aster felt her face grow slightly warm. <em>No, bad thoughts! Do </em>not <em>think about how much fun that might be...</em> "And it wasn't to give an arithmancy lecture."</p><p><em>Yes, good, think about arithmancy, or Evans being a fucking de Mort! Not Bella and getting her back for that </em>caloris <em>jinx, earlier... </em>Damn it! (She'd always been fucking <em>terrible</em> at pink elephants.)</p><p>"Er, right... Um, why did you, then? This isn't a recruitment pitch, is it? Because if it is, I'll save you some time. I already have plans for after leaving school."</p><p>"It's not. Aster tells me you're adopted."</p><p>"So it seems. I suppose you subscribe to her Death Eater Rape Baby theory?"</p><p>"Mmm, you could say that. Though I was under the impression that the theory was a little more specific than that."</p><p>"You told me there was no possible way that de Mort could have a kid my age," Aster reminded her.</p><p>"Yes, but then I actually went back and looked up the date we did that ritual, and, well... When is your birthday, exactly?"</p><p>"July first."</p><p>"Of Nineteen-Sixty?" Evans nodded. "Which would put your conception right around Mabon of Fifty-Nine?"</p><p>"Er...I guess so? Maybe closer to the beginning of the month, but... Where exactly are you going with this?" Evans asked, a note of doubt in her tone suggesting she knew the answer to that question already, and didn't think it was quite as ridiculous as it really ought to seem.</p><p>"I think you know exactly where I'm going with this. On a scale of <em>shrug </em>to <em>starting a duel here and now</em>, how upset would you be if I told you my Lord raped your mother as a ritual sacrifice, and two years later I tortured her into insanity because she wouldn't drop her investigation of us? Hypothetically speaking."</p><p>Evans just stared at her for a long moment, the flat look broken by a sip of wine, but still just...unnervingly calm. Did she just not believe it? Because Aster would have expected a killing curse glare at <em>least</em>. Certainly not for her to casually inform Bella that, "Hypothetically speaking, I'd say you must be mistaken. My sire's name was Thomas Riddle."</p><p>Now it was Bella's turn to go unnervingly quiet. And <em>still</em> — had she actually turned herself into a vampire when no one was looking?</p><p>"That's not exactly convincing evidence to the contrary, Evans. De Mort's first name is Thom, and everyone knows his last name is fake. How do you even <em>know</em> that, anyway?"</p><p>"I asked Persephone this morning, and there are <em>loads</em> of people named Tom, Aster. It's not exactly <em>uncommon</em>."</p><p>Maybe it was just hard to get worked up about people being tortured and killed when you've just been asking Magic questions in your dreams — which <em>had</em> to be what she meant, because she might've had time to light a candle or two while Aster was in the shower this morning, but certainly not time to make any sort of proper offering or invocation. Never mind that they'd been in the school and any <em>external</em> response from anything as powerful as <em>Death</em> would definitely have alerted <em>someone</em>. "No, but casually talking to bloody gods <em>is</em> uncommon — creepy fucking sociopaths, both of you."</p><p>"I'm pretty fucking certain that not <em>every ritualist in the bloody world</em> is related—" Her voice cut off suddenly under the silencing jinx Bella tended to throw around whenever she was tired of hearing stupid, childish arguments. <em>That</em> annoyed her, even if the idea that Bella had tortured her mother into catatonia didn't. Her eyes flashed with power and rage, the flare of magic breaking the spell. "Hey!"</p><p>Bella, of course, was completely unintimidated — short of actually asking Magic to fuck up her life, there was practically nothing Evans could really do to threaten her. And even that wasn't guaranteed to work, Bella and de Mort had their own allies among the gods. She did sound kind of...<em>shaken</em> probably wasn't the right word — suddenly and unusually intense, suggesting a degree of investment that hadn't been there before — asking, "What else did she tell you? Kore."</p><p>Evans's response was delayed by the arrival of their food, but Bella maintained that same uncomfortable intensity until she said, "He was the son of a muggle and a squib, raised in a muggle orphanage. He's still alive, but he doesn't use that name anymore in this universe, so—"</p><p>"So, it's really only <em>more</em> likely that he's going by, say, <em>de Mort</em> now?"</p><p>"Shut up, Aster! No one asked you!"</p><p>Aster opened her mouth to respond with Evans's line about being a nice person, volunteering information, but closed it again at Bella's warning glare. "She's right, though, you know. It <em>would</em> mean Thom <em>lied</em> to me about where he came from—" He claimed, Aster was pretty sure, to be an unrecognised bastard of some French noble house. Mortis, maybe, or one of the houses that had died out in Grindelwald's purges like Durant or Fèvre. "—but," she grinned, "that's a good thing."</p><p>"<em>What</em>?" Aster couldn't imagine a single way in which Bella would think her precious lord and master <em>lying</em> to her about being a fucking <em>mudblood</em> — worse, being an <em>actual muggleborn</em> — was a good thing.</p><p>"Oh, well, I lied to him about killing her mother," she said, shrugging. "I was told I had to give her a chance, so it was practically guaranteed she was going to escape. I think this makes us even. Well, I was <em>nine</em> at the time. I hadn't sworn my vows yet. He <em>kept</em> lying to me after swearing he wouldn't, so technically his lie is worse. He should be pleased I'm willing to call it even instead of demanding he find some way to make it up to me."</p><p>"We never established your lord is my sire," Evans pointed out, holding up a finger for silence as Bella began to respond. She actually shut her mouth, smirking like a cat in cream, because that was <em>such</em> a de Mort thing to do. "But if he were, would that put me in some sort of negotiating position? <em>Hypothetically speaking</em>."</p><p>Bella cackled. "Oh, yes, you're <em>definitely</em> his daughter."</p><p>Evans pouted at her. "I still don't know why you're so sure of that."</p><p>"Maybe because your answer to <em>would you be upset if we raped and tortured your biological mother</em> is <em>what's in it for me?</em>" Aster suggested. "Does that mean Evans is actually part snake?"</p><p>"What? No, don't be ridiculous, Aster."</p><p>Evans ignored the snake question entirely. "Am I supposed to grieve for a woman I never knew? I think I'm still more annoyed with my mum hiding that I was adopted for my entire life. I can't say I'm <em>pleased</em> about it, but I do <em>like</em> existing, so I can't really hold the circumstances of my conception against them. I'm <em>less</em> pleased about Bella torturing her until her brain melted or whatever, but she <em>was</em> an Auror. Presumably she posed an actual threat to them and they wanted to make an example of her—"</p><p>Bella shrugged. "We could have just killed her, but I needed someone to practise pain curses on. Since we were getting rid of her anyway, it seemed more efficient to use her than kidnap someone else just for that."</p><p>
  <em>Oh, yes, very commendable, consolidating the people you're planning on torturing to death, or as good as.</em>
</p><p>Evans's eyes narrowed, as though <em>just for practice</em> was a less acceptable excuse for torturing her bearer than because they were on opposite sides of the law — ignoring that she was just trying to hold them accountable for <em>raping her</em>, on top of whatever <em>other </em>criminal activities they'd been up to. "How <em>very </em>ethical of you. Anyway, I may not <em>like</em> it, but I'm not going to take it personally, declare a blood feud against them or something. I mean, even if I <em>did</em> take it personally I wouldn't declare a blood feud against them — I know they could kill me without even thinking about it, I'm not <em>stupid</em>, but that's <em>so</em> not the point. And I can't imagine any incentive you might have to lie about this, so I'm willing to provisionally accept that it's <em>possible</em> that your lord is my sire. Is there any reason I should care? Is there any reason <em>he</em> should care? So yeah, I guess you could say my answer is <em>what's in it for me?"</em></p><p>"I suppose that depends entirely on what you want from me," de Mort said, strolling casually out of a shadowy corner, glamoured to look completely human — thin-faced and pale, with piercing blue eyes and dark hair, "aged" from what Aster guessed he probably looked like before he embarked on his quest to become a carnival freak, but not the red-eyed, slightly strung out, someone's-done-too-many-power-enhancing-rituals "Dark Lord" face he sometimes wore in public when he didn't want pretty Thom de Mort to be associated with whatever business he was conducting. She didn't see him appear, but somehow she wasn't surprised that he was there, and apparently knew exactly what was going on. Bella had probably summoned the creepy bastard somehow, and <em>if you got the details of our conversation from me, kindly piss off, Lord Snake-face</em>.</p><p>His lips (or the illusion thereof) twitched slightly. <em>Bella filled me in.</em></p><p>
  <em>GET OUT OF MY HEAD, DE MORT! I MEAN RIDDLE!</em>
</p><p>"I haven't thought of myself as <em>Riddle</em> in ages, you know," he said aloud, confirming Evans's parentage as casually as he took a seat beside Bella and stole an anchovy off her pizza. "And I never told you I <em>wasn't</em> raised by muggles. In fact, my generally negative opinion of their society is based almost entirely on my own experience growing up in it. Not that Magical Britain really did any better by me."</p><p>Bella sniffed, apparently accepting that excuse for his lies, at least provisionally. "Thom, meet Lily Evans, known as Asphodel in certain circles. Asphodel, this is Thom de Mort, Lord of the Knights of Walpurgis — and apparently your father."</p><p>"Usually he looks more snake-like," Aster volunteered.</p><p>"Bella could have been in the middle of Charing for all I knew, and going about un-glamoured tends to cause a <em>scene</em>."</p><p>Bella smacked his hand as he reached for another anchovy. "That's only cute when I do it to Mickey," she informed him. "Order your own."</p><p>He didn't, instead conjuring a glass and helping himself to the wine. "So, Daughter. What is it exactly that you were hoping to negotiate for?"</p><p>"Severus Snape," she said coolly. "He's mine. You can't have him."</p><p>"Who?"</p><p>"Promising hedgewitch in the girls' year. Specialises in potions and mind magic. Reggie's been trying to recruit him to the Cause." Apparently Bella had made a point of looking into the kid Aster had tried to get rid of, because she hadn't known that two weeks ago.</p><p>"Ah, yes," de Mort said, in a tone suggesting that he <em>totally</em> knew who they were talking about now, because he <em>definitely</em> paid attention to everything that was going on at every level of his organisation.</p><p>"The overgrown dungeon bat I was trying to get expelled last month."</p><p><em>"Oh!</em> Right, okay. And what are you offering in exchange for Mister Snape?"</p><p>"Er... Honestly? I hadn't really given it much thought, I didn't think this negotiation was going to happen <em>immediately</em>. I kind of just wanted to know if maybe I <em>should</em> think about it, you know, because I might theoretically have some kind of leverage."</p><p>"You don't." The Dark Lord sounded almost disinterested — certainly entirely unthreatened. "I suppose you could attempt to link Riddle or de Mort to the crimes you know me to have committed, which might cause me some slight inconvenience—" Oh, right, Aster tended to forget it wasn't common knowledge outside of his allies' families that de Mort was the Dark Lord. Most people actually considered him more or less <em>respectable</em>, like Bella. "—but you would in so doing publicly out yourself as my daughter, which would be <em>far</em> more inconvenient for you than it would be for me."</p><p>Evans pouted. "Well, you still can't have Sev. He's <em>mine</em>. He's <em>mine</em> like Bella is <em>yours</em>, and has been since we were nine years old."</p><p>Aster snorted. She couldn't help it — the first thing she thought of when she thought of Bella <em>belonging to</em> de Mort was her letting him carve up her back last time Aster had seen them together. Nor could she help saying, when Evans glared at her for interrupting, "That's some pretty kinky shite for a nine-year-old. Just saying."</p><p>"Do you need help recalling the sort of kinky shite <em>you</em> were into at the age of nine?" de Mort asked, tugging a memory of Aster and Narcissa practicing the Imperius on each other at that age to the front of her mind. Their excuse had been learning to resist it, after Cygnus used it on Meda, but they'd mostly just forced each other to do increasingly humiliating things, which had been <em>fun</em> in a way Aster hadn't really understood at the time but now recognised as being <em>really fucking hot</em>.</p><p>...She was pretty sure that was his way of saying, <em>shut up, this has nothing to do with you.</em></p><p><em>Give the girl a biscuit,</em> de Mort thought, his tone <em>patronising as fuck</em>.</p><p>"Piss off," she snapped.</p><p>"Aster, shut up, this has nothing to do with you," Evans said, which was just <em>creepy as hell</em>.</p><p>
  <em>Did you make her say that?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No, the resemblance truly is uncanny.</em>
</p><p>Bella apparently thought so, too, giggling and saying, "Becoming a girl was one thing, Aster, but going out and finding your own version of my Lord to follow might be slightly excessive, so far as imitation goes. Not that I disapprove, I'm sure she'll do a better job keeping you in check than dear Cousin Jamie, but—"</p><p>"This has nothing to do with <em>you</em>, either," Evans interrupted, glowering at Bella.</p><p>Bella smirked, magic twisting in the air around them at her will, emphasising that she could crush Evans like a bug if she so chose. "Is this the bit where you say I'm not your real mum?"</p><p>"No, this is the bit where I tell you I'm not intimidated, and you keep upping the ante until <em>your Lord</em> tells you to knock it off, because this has <em>nothing to do with you</em>."</p><p>De Mort sniggered and hissed something at Bella, who rolled her eyes.</p><p>"Hey! Just because I <em>might</em> be your daughter, doesn't mean I'm going to join your stupid Revolution. Especially if the ideology has really drifted enough that you think you're a fucking king of some kind."</p><p>Aster should probably be surprised that Evans was a parselmouth, but she really, <em>really</em> wasn't. For that matter, she hadn't found Bella's <em>don't be ridiculous</em> brush-off to be a convincing denial of Evans actually being part snake, either.</p><p>"What part of <em>stop antagonising the little serpent princess</em> sounded like it had anything to do with the Cause?" Bella asked.</p><p>"The part where it was possessive and implied <em>she belongs</em>, maybe?"</p><p>Bella rolled her eyes. "Fine, <em>stop antagonising </em>our <em>little serpent princess.</em> As in, <em>Yes, Bella, I know she's about as threatening as a baby basilisk, and that's just fucking adorable, but stop teasing our daughter.</em> Nothing to do with the Cause or the Death Eaters, though it <em>is</em> pretty fucking obvious you do belong on our side of the war."</p><p>"...<em>our</em> daughter?" Evans repeated, ignoring the <em>totally not a recruitment pitch</em>. Apparently she hadn't caught the implication behind <em>not your real mum</em> a second ago.</p><p><em>Aster</em> wasn't surprised, Bella and de Mort <em>were</em> practically married, in every sense except legally. <em>Obviously</em> she would consider his long lost daughter to be hers as well. And, well, the Family could be a bit weird about reckoning kinship anyway. Anyone with the name Black was Family, obviously, but also first cousins on their mothers' sides (or first cousins of cousins raised as your own siblings — Aster only had one set of <em>actual</em> first cousins, but she and Reg kind of considered the Rosiers to be more closely related than they actually were because of Narcissa), and anyone whose mother (or maternal grandmother) was a Black (if they liked them), and occasionally more distantly related cousins who happened to be particularly dark-minded and/or mad and/or god-touched and therefore acted more like a Black than a Fawley or Parkinson or whatever. Evans would fit <em>right</em> in with most of the Blacks, so it wasn't much of a stretch that Bella would be open to considering her Family. Hell, Aster wouldn't be surprised if she offered to adopt Evans, she was probably exactly the sort of daughter Bella would have liked to have had (if she'd ever wanted kids).</p><p>"If she hadn't refused to kill your mother, you wouldn't be here," de Mort pointed out. "And you would describe her as—" (strangled hissing noise) "—or—" (could be the exact same bloody hissing noise, for all Aster knew) "—in Parsel." (More hissing, completely indistinguishable from the other hissing.) "—just means you share a nest. The exact nature of the relationship between you and Bella isn't specified, but given that Bella has been my consort rather than my student for several years now, <em>our daughter</em> is a better translation than <em>your sister</em>."</p><p>"You do realise you're implying that your relationship is weirdly incestuous, right?" Aster interjected, mostly to remind them that she was still there and didn't speak fucking <em>Snakeish</em>.</p><p>"Pretty sure—" (hiss, hiss, meaningless hiss) "—applies to you, too, since they turned you into a girl and we live together," Evans said. "So that one time we fucked is now retroactively incestuous, too."</p><p>Which didn't make the idea of doing it again any less appealing. Aster might not be inclined to admit it to most people — <em>normal</em> people — but close cousins were generally considered the best matches in the House of Black, because (as de Mort had recently reminded her with that memory of Cissy) they tended to be a bit mad and a bit cruel and could, generally speaking, <em>keep up</em>. (Jamie thought she was weird for not having any preference to speak of when it came to the sex of her partners, but honestly anyone who <em>wasn't</em> Family, or at least a sadistic, manipulative bitch, was a bit second-rate. Their sex had nothing to do with it.)</p><p>Bella smirked. "Yes, well, welcome to the House of Black. Our entire family tree is one big incest joke. I could adopt you," she offered. "Make it official."</p><p><em>Called it</em>. Sure, she'd suggested it as one of those jokes that could <em>not</em> be a joke, if you wanted to take it seriously, but Evans actually seemed to be considering it, which, on the one hand, made perfect (mad) sense, but on the other... Aster was <em>pretty sure</em> Evans didn't actually understand what it meant to be part of the Family, or even <em>a House in general</em> — being subject to Family Magic and House Law, not to mention having to deal with social obligations as a member of a Noble and Most Ancient House. "Am I still supposed to be making sure you don't do anything insane today?"</p><p>"I think we agreed that you were supposed to be making sure I didn't do anything that I could get arrested for — or, failing that, help me not get caught. But I take your point. I'll think about it and get back to you." Which was possibly the <em>most absurd</em> answer she could <em>possibly</em> have given, even more so than an enthusiastic <em>yes, let's do it, right now!</em> — at least that would be understandable from a social climbing perspective. Taking it seriously, but acting like it wasn't really a big deal, was just ridiculous. <em>Aster</em> might not have a very high opinion of them, but being invited to join <em>the House of Black</em> was <em>kind of major</em>. (Even if that invitation was apparently made completely impulsively — she was pretty sure Arcturus would be less enthusiastic about the idea than Bella.) "I <em>do</em> already have a family, you know. I'm not really in the market for a new one, no matter how annoyed I am with my mum at the moment. The only thing I actually <em>want</em> from either of you is for your idiot recruiters to leave Sev alone."</p><p>"Ah, yes, your little thrall."</p><p>Evans's eyes flashed, her voice taking on a distinctly offended tone. <em>"Thrall?</em> He's my <em>friend</em>, not my fucking <em>slave</em>!"</p><p>De Mort chuckled. "I <em>do</em> know where you were going with your declaration before Aster interrupted earlier. He's <em>yours</em>. You <em>own</em> him. You're the most important person in his world. He would <em>die</em> for you, if you asked him to. Call it whatever you like — love or obsession or loyal friendship — but I recognise enthrallment when I see it."</p><p>"Oh, for fuck's sake, I'm not a mind mage, I can't just <em>enthrall</em> someone! And I think Sev would have noticed—"</p><p>"You are, though. And you don't need mind magic to enthrall someone, it just takes longer."</p><p>
  <em>"What?"</em>
</p><p>Aster was with Evans on this one. <em>Yes, what?!</em></p><p>"You <em>are</em> a mind mage. A very, <em>very</em> weak one, granted — you obviously didn't <em>compel</em> this boy to love you — but you didn't actually think it was entirely normal, to be <em>that</em> good at reading people and showing them exactly what they want to see in you." That wasn't a question, because <em>of course</em> it wasn't, this was <em>de Mort</em>.</p><p>"Well, <em>no</em>, but I thought it was just, you know, magic making me seem a little more charismatic than I really am. I mean, you three are all shiny and attractive, just...<em>because magic likes you</em>. I thought it was just that."</p><p>"Mmm, no. That's being graced by magic, it's different. As is the gravity exerted by the magic of powerful sorcerers, which is also part of what you're feeling from Bella and myself. Being graced — god-touched, if you like — doesn't make you particularly likeable or charming. <em>That</em> is a subconscious mind-magic effect, giving you an intuitive understanding of what people want from you, how they'll react if you do or say certain things, maybe pushing them a little to overlook minor slips in the performance of a persona."</p><p>Evans glared at him as though she didn't believe him, though Aster thought that sounded unnervingly spot-on. She'd thought it was weird that they'd managed to spend <em>literally hours</em> talking the first time they ever held a proper conversation, <em>even as it was happening</em>, but that hadn't stopped her continuing it, or agreeing to go visit Evans's parents the next day. Mind magic being involved seemed a perfectly <em>reasonable</em> explanation to her. "Oh, come off it! It's not like <em>everyone</em> likes me! Aster doesn't, or my roommates, or my bloody <em>family</em> for that matter!"</p><p>The Dark Wanker smirked. "Aster actually <em>does</em> like you — the Blacks can be a bit fuzzy on the distinctions between friends and enemies and antagonising and flirting." Aster glared at him for implying that Aster was flirting with Evans, because she <em>definitely wasn't</em>. (<em>Keep telling yourself that, star-child.</em>) "You didn't <em>want</em> your roommates to like you. You wanted them to give you space. Same with your muggle family — you want to distance yourself from them, let your relationship with them just fade away, because— Yes, actually. Not <em>often</em>, most people either fear me or respect me too much to actually <em>tell me</em> I'm creepy, but it does happen."</p><p>"Because you <em>are</em> creepy," Aster reminded him, though it sounded like Evans just had, too. "I'm sure everyone else is thinking it too, even if they don't want to admit it."</p><p>De Mort shrugged, nodded. "There are a few exceptions, but yes. I try not to let it bother me."</p><p>Uh-<em>huh</em>. Because Aster was <em>so</em> sure it was even <em>possible</em> to hurt de Mort's feelings — honestly, they were just as nonexistent as Evans's. That was one of the things that had made Aster think she was his daughter in the first place.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, because her being a god-touched parselmouth with control issues and a distinct physical resemblance to myself didn't give it away?</em>
</p><p><em>Get </em>OUT <em>of my head!</em></p><p><em>The ironic thing about you demanding I leave you alone is that you aren't </em>actually <em>uncomfortable with my presence or the invasion of your privacy, you just think you </em>should <em>be.</em></p><p><em>You may have noticed, the Blacks can be a bit fuzzy on the concept of privacy. </em>The memory of Bella inviting her to continue masturbating while she showered came to mind<em>. But I don't </em>like <em>other voices talking in my head! </em>Even if she <em>knew</em> it wasn't a hallucination sort of voice, and the Black Madness didn't normally involve much hearing voices, anyway — unless the gods were talking to you, she guessed — but she still didn't like feeling like a bloody <em>crazy person</em>, and <em>hearing voices in your bloody head</em> was definitely <em>crazy person</em> territory!</p><p>
  <em>And yet, talking back to foreign voices in your head comes so very naturally to you.</em>
</p><p><em>I'm ignoring you. This is me, ignoring you. Piss off.</em> She conjured a mental image of herself flipping the bird at a snake-faced caricature of de Mort, just for good measure, before <em>very pointedly</em> turning her attention back to the conversation which had continued between the other three while she'd been distracted by the snake-faced <em>creep</em>, who was probably still eavesdropping on her if the smirk he gave her was any indication, though he didn't actually <em>say</em> anything. In her head or otherwise.</p><p>They'd gotten off topic again, assuming the topic was still to convince Bella to tell Reggie to lay off Snape. Though, it might have shifted to trying to recruit Evans instead. Or...building a floating island? <em>What?</em> "What the hell is <em>New Avalon</em>?"</p><p>Evans rolled her eyes. "Read the bloody manifesto, Aster!"</p><p>"Well I <em>would</em>, but no one gave <em>me</em> a copy! I didn't even know there <em>was</em> a fucking manifesto!"</p><p>"Yes, well, you were already so firmly set against joining us by the time you were old enough to read it and think critically about the political climate in which we live, I assumed you'd just burn it," Bella explained.</p><p>Well, that <em>did</em> admittedly sound like something Aster would do — probably with the Marauders, as a dramatic symbolic act demonstrating her rejection of everything the Death Eaters stood for — but obviously she would read it first. It was important to know what your enemy was actually trying to accomplish. Bella knew that — she'd <em>taught</em> her that, for fuck's sake!</p><p>"I'll owl you a copy if you agree to talk to Dumbledore about it after you read it," de Mort offered.</p><p>"What? <em>Why?"</em></p><p>"Obviously he would burn it <em>without</em> reading it. If he understood exactly what we want, he might be far less resistant to the idea of opening negotiations between ourselves and the Wizengamot. We're hardly the monsters he believes us to be — I might go so far as to say he's swallowed too much of his own propaganda on that front."</p><p>Aster's eyes narrowed involuntarily. "I suppose all those children in Kensington slaughtered themselves, then."</p><p>"Er...right. Is that really necessary? The whole killing children thing?" Evans asked, sounding slightly uncomfortable for the first time all day. Which was a bloody stupid question, <em>obviously</em> it wasn't <em>necessary</em>. How could it possibly be?</p><p>"It's expedient," de Mort said.</p><p>"And fun." De Mort raised an eyebrow at Bella, who gave him an unrepentant shrug, because while de Mort might not be as much of a monster as Dumbledore thought he was — <em>maybe</em>, in the scale of his violence, at least — the Light <em>underestimated</em> how sick and twisted Bella was by quite a lot. "What? You told me to get their attention. You didn't say I couldn't have <em>fun </em>while I was poking sleeping dragons. Though, the fun part is really more fighting anyone who shows up to stop you killing children," she explained, presumably for Evans's benefit. "The children themselves don't tend to put up much of a fight, but Aurors seem to find murders more abhorrent the younger the victims are, so."</p><p>Evans looked for a moment as though she had something to say to that, but she clearly thought better of it. "Expedient to what end?"</p><p>"Sovereignty, obviously."</p><p>"Forcing the Wizengamot to come to the table and negotiate with us as an independent state," Bella elaborated. "The Ministry can't stop us by force. The I.C.W. <em>might</em> be able to, but I can <em>definitely</em> turn Great Britain into a blood-soaked, Staute-shattering <em>mess</em> before they manage it — and Dumbledore knows it, he'd be a fucking fool to invite them to the party. At this point it's really just a matter of time until they admit that we are effectively outside of their control. If Crouch and Dumbledore weren't such stubborn arses, I suspect we'd already be at the negotiation stage. But alas, it seems I need to cut the message a little deeper yet." Bella grinned, making it clear that she was in no way disappointed about Britain's stubborn refusal to just let "New Avalon" secede and form their own Miskatonic-like state.</p><p>Where would they even <em>put</em> it? Were they really building a bloody travelling island for themselves?</p><p><em>Yes, Project Atlantis</em>, de Mort slipped into her mind<em>. Unfortunately, it's nowhere near the point of viability yet. Ideally, we want the Isle of Man for New Avalon</em>. <em>It would hardly be any effort at all to relocate any magical inhabitants who prefer to remain in Britain, and I have it on good authority that the Queen would be willing to discuss an arrangement </em>very <em>similar to the one Miskatonic holds with the American Confederation, in anticipation of the inevitable failure of the Statute.</em></p><p>Oh. Well...</p><p><em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>That actually...seemed kind of reasonable. Well, it was still bloody mad, just deciding that you were going to carve out your own bloody <em>country</em> for yourself, but Aster hadn't realised they had, like, a concrete <em>goal</em>.</p><p>She meant, building a bloody island was the kind of cloud-castle dreaming that you could work toward your whole life without actually achieving. Taking over Mann actually seemed <em>possible</em>. Like, short-term, <em>where do you see yourself in five years</em> possible.</p><p>De Mort just smirked at her, tipping his wine glass a bit in acknowledgment of that realisation, before saying (in response to something Evans had said, she thought, she'd gotten distracted again), "Yes, well, keep it in mind that if you <em>were</em> to join us, you wouldn't have to profess an interest in healing in order to justify your knowledge of the Maleficia."</p><p>"I don't <em>have</em> to say I want to be a healer <em>now</em> — forensic spell-reconstruction was also an option. I actually <em>like</em> healing. I mean, I know I'd be a shite paediatrician or G.P., but you don't need a good bedside manner to be an emergency intake cursebreaker-healer any more than you do to be a bloody surgeon, and generally speaking healing charms are more about control than raw power, and anatomy is just a <em>fascinating</em> subject. Besides, I've been playing with Life and Death since I was, what? seven or eight? Seemed the natural choice, really."</p><p>De Mort seemed to be trying not to smile. "Just for the record, your...<em>friend</em> was right, bringing dead kittens back to life isn't normal accidental magic."</p><p>Evans rolled her eyes. "Well, <em>obviously</em>. I don't think I've done magic <em>accidentally</em> since I was about <em>four</em>. I definitely meant to bring her back. I just...don't really know how I did it. She just shouldn't have been dead. There wasn't even anything <em>wrong</em> with her, some cruel bastard fucking <em>drowned </em>her, probably because black cats are bad luck or some equally stupid reason."</p><p>"Wait, are you saying that evil little moggy you call a familiar is actually undead? Like, a bloody cat-inferius, or something?" It was bad enough Evans's stupid cat had taken to sleeping on Aster's bed, getting its bloody fur <em>everywhere</em>, if it was actually a <em>dead</em> cat... Well, she wouldn't feel <em>at all</em> bad about chucking it out a window next time she caught it stretched out on her fucking pillow, was all she had to say.</p><p>Evans glared at her. <em>"That evil little moggy</em> has a name, it's <em>Nyx</em>, and she's not evil, and she <em>is</em> my familiar, which is how I know she hates you because you kicked her down the stairs when we were first-years."</p><p>"She was trying to trip me!" Aster interjected. Evans ignored this as she had since they were eleven, but it was absolutely true, that stupid animal had it out for her!</p><p>"And she's not a bloody <em>inferius</em>, she's a living cat, she just <em>happens </em>to have been dead for a few hours when she was a few weeks old."</p><p><em>"Living</em> might be overstating the case, a bit," de Mort said, presumably looking a bit closer at the memory as discussing it drew it closer to the surface. "Yes, she grew up, which traditional undead wouldn't, but if I had to guess her life is probably dependent on yours. That flash there, that was the bond between you taking hold, your life-spark shifting to animate her as well."</p><p>"I thought that was just..."</p><p>"No, those the life hadn't entirely faded from."</p><p><em>The really annoying thing about legilimens is only being able to hear half the conversation,</em> Aster thought at de Mort.</p><p>He responded by pushing a memory of a tiny Lily Evans — presumably, it was from a first-person perspective, but Snape was there and looked to be about seven years old — cradling a dead bird in her hands, its neck snapped from flying into a window just moments ago, feeling with bone-deep certainty that this creature <em>should not be dead</em>.</p><p>Deciding, with a frankly disturbing degree of conviction, that she wouldn't <em>let it</em> be dead.</p><p><em>Magic twisted around her, flowing through her and into the broken bird, repairing crushed bones and torn muscles as she breathed a command over it, so lightly Aster thought Snape might not have heard it. </em>"Wake up." <em>There was a jolt, the magic between them snapping, sudden exhaustion dragging at her. The bird's eyes shot open as it fluttered and righted itself, launched itself into the air and away. There was a grin tugging at Evans's lips, a feeling of elation—</em></p><p>
  <em>Tiny Snape caught her eye, every bit as serious as he still was practically all the time, awe and terror in his voice as he said, "Lily...that bird was dead."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Her grin stretched wider. "And now it's not."</em>
</p><p>"<em>...Don't tell anyone about this."</em></p><p>From the way de Mort was talking, that wasn't the only time she'd done something like that either, which was just <em>fucking terrifying</em>. "You only needed to trap their life-spark in their bodies and support them long enough to repair the physical damage — a bit like the bridging technique used to sustain the connection between body and soul in the process of creating a vampire. Your Nyx is a textbook Lazarus Resurrection, reigniting and sustaining the life-spark in an otherwise stable vessel, but rather than Death possessing the vessel and simulating the presence of its soul you're projecting intelligence and awareness through the approximation of a familiar bond." He grinned. "It's <em>barely</em> necromancy, since cats are hardly sapient creatures, but still neat. And very impressive for an eight-year-old."</p><p>Evans just blinked at him. "Oh. Um...thanks?"</p><p>"Ooh! You should try resurrecting someone who's been <em>avada</em>'d sometime," Bella suggested, interrupting what <em>would</em> be a very touching father-daughter bonding moment if they were in a bloody <em>novel</em>, and not talking about the fucking undead cat that was probably shedding all over Aster's favourite blanket right now. "If you do it before their soul starts to assimilate, it should even hold together on its own."</p><p>"Er...no," Evans said, shaking her head emphatically. "Even if it does take a few days for a soul to assimilate into Magic, they're still beyond the Veil as soon as their ties to the mortal plane break. If I didn't trap them here, I'd have to ask for them back — and I can pretty much guarantee Persephone wouldn't give them to me if I killed them just to practise reviving them—" Aster wondered if she realised she was implying that Persephone <em>would</em> let her play with the unassimilated souls of the dead under some <em>other</em> circumstances. <em>Probably not</em>, she decided, because that was a <em>hell</em> of a thing to imply! "—and if I <em>did</em> trap them first, that would just be bridging them over. There are less traumatic ways to temporarily remove a soul from a body. Erm, theoretically. Which I would know nothing about, because that would be <em>very</em> illegal."</p><p>Bella snorted, but otherwise ignored Evans's nod toward pretending they <em>weren't</em> having lunch with a couple of crazy people who didn't give a single flying fuck whether she'd been poking around with soul magic in her spare time. "Well, obviously you wouldn't <em>avada</em> them <em>yourself</em>."</p><p>"Pretty sure just standing there while <em>you</em> kill them so I can try to bring them back would also be frowned upon. Just a hunch," Evans said, rolling her eyes.</p><p>Bella pouted at her. "You're no fun."</p><p>"I'm <em>loads</em> of fun, I'm just not <em>stupid</em>. I'm not going to annoy Death just to amuse you. I still haven't repaid her for the <em>last</em> favour she granted me. I mean, I would argue that was mostly Hecate's fault, but I still owe her something nice."</p><p>"Is there a story there? It sounds like there's a story there."</p><p>There was. One Aster had already heard, at least the short version of, and she was <em>pretty fucking sure</em> the longer version was going to meander off into horrible tangents on magical theory because <em>of course</em> it was, de Mort, Evans, and Bella were the three biggest magic theory <em>nerds</em> she'd ever met (in that order). <em>"Luca! Please! Save me! We need more wine!"</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The one with all the monologuing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>This is a terrible idea</em>.</p><p>De Mort ignored Aster, offering Evans his arm like the gentleman he definitely wasn't, ready to apparate them back to Hogsmeade because <em>of course</em> they'd hit it off.</p><p>The four of them ended up sitting around drinking and talking about nerdy academic projects for <em>hours</em>, from the floating island — or possibly underwater dome, there was some disagreement about the most realistic way to go about colonising the ocean, as though it was at all realistic in any way — to the arithmancy behind the basic concept of the Dark Mark — which was apparently a fucking <em>soul brand</em>, Aster refused to believe anyone other than Bella knew that when they were taking it, because that was <em>literally</em> selling your soul, enslaving yourself to fucking <em>de Mort</em> — to the technical difficulties of creating an artefact to facilitate controlled time travel — which was apparently a thing Bella was actually making progress on — and the fascinating possibilities for exploring alternate dimensions and planes that could be potential next steps when — <em>when</em> — they got the time travel thing down, to the direct runic augmentation project — which was apparently not nearly as impossible as people said, assuming you had a subject with enough power and control to activate or deactivate hundreds of runes in concert, and mad enough to break their own bones and tear their body apart thousands of times working it out through trial and error.</p><p>Aster would <em>definitely</em> deny it if anyone asked, because sitting around talking about theory with your cousin and her dorky, snake-obsessed boyfriend all afternoon like a massive <em>nerd</em> was <em>deeply uncool</em> — and also because no matter how brilliant and charismatic Bella and de Mort might be, they were also evil (<em>Damn it!</em> It really shouldn't be that hard to remember that!) — but she really did think a lot of the shite the Death Eaters were working on was absolutely fascinating. Especially extraplanar exploration, she'd <em>always</em> thought that was a neat idea, and there was something deeply appealing about the idea of being able to go toe-to-toe with a werewolf literally twice your size in a straight-up fist-fight...though not enough to make it seem worth it to repeatedly destroy herself learning to use the runic augmentation scheme they'd worked out.</p><p>But the pizzeria <em>had</em> eventually opened for dinner, letting in other patrons, and Aster and Evans were expected to go back to school for the Feast — though that was probably a terrible idea in and of itself, there was no way Evans was going to be able to pull off <em>Prefect Evans</em> at the moment and Aster had no intention of ruining her lovely pre-dinner buzz with Sober-Up, so trying to hide that she was <em>slightly drunk</em> was going to be fun — and Bella and de Mort had a couple of things they needed to take care of, and they <em>did</em> have plans later. Namely, whatever Evans was planning to do to co-opt the Samhain ritual for her own purposes, and making sure Jamie was there to witness the fact that his precious Lily-flower was as fake as her father's pretty, human face.</p><p>Plans which de Mort was just as curious about as Aster was.</p><p>He'd decided that they — he and Bella — were going to just drop in on the ritual to see what their newly-discovered daughter was up to. Aster was fairly certain that Dumbledore would notice they were on the grounds, which was going to be a pain in the arse all on its own, but on top of that she'd <em>kind of</em> gotten the impression that de Mort, who was weirdly enthusiastic about the idea of having a child, thought this was an excellent father-daughter bonding opportunity and was planning on inserting himself into the ritual itself somehow, so Aster was betting about half the school would know that Evans was de Mort's kid by morning.</p><p>And neither one of them seemed to give a single fuck about any of that.</p><p><em>Honestly, Aster, I don't see why you find it so odd that I appreciate my daughter's company. I </em>know <em>you find her decidedly entertaining yourself.</em></p><p><em>I find it odd that you appreciate human company in general</em>, she thought back. She'd given up on insisting on audible conversations <em>hours</em> ago, somewhere around the end of the second bottle of wine.</p><p>...<em>Bella </em>is <em>human, you know.</em> She could feel the underlying amusement there, despite the 'dry' tone.</p><p>Only technically, really. She was a <em>Black</em>, and she was always at least a little mad, Aster thought, it was just hard to tell because her self-control was positively inhuman too — following through on the runic augmentation project, from what they'd told her about it today, was an entirely different level of insanity than anything else she'd ever heard of <em>anyone</em> doing, <em>including</em> getting a spontaneous sex-change. Between that and the shadow-walking, she was pretty sure Bella was about as close as you could get to being a vampire without doing the ritual, and it wasn't really a secret that she got on better with her werewolf subordinates than she did with most of the other lieutenants. Plus she'd been raised almost entirely by house elves and de Mort. Aster had met wilderfolk who acted more convincingly human than she did at times. (And that wasn't even counting when she did obscenely over-powered shite like reshaping entire training fields to create new dueling environments for her trainees, or mastering freeform flight, or <em>casually channeling the Ever-loving Dark</em>.)</p><p><em>Okay, I take your point</em>, de Mort responded. <em>But you have to admit, neither you nor Asphodel have been doing a </em>great <em>job of acting like normal, sane humans today, either.</em></p><p>She had to do no such thing, no matter how true it might be. <em>Piss off.</em></p><p>He did, pulling Evans into the Shadows rather than apparating them, which made Aster's skin crawl just thinking about it. She'd been pulled under exactly once, and never would be again if she could help it. It was horribly, sickeningly disorienting, and impossible to navigate if you weren't already accustomed to using magic to sense the environment around you.</p><p>"Oh, I guess we should probably go, then," Bella said, holding out a hand. "Give them something to aim for."</p><p>Which made very little sense to Aster, but then she would willingly admit that she had no idea how shadow-walking worked. "I <em>can</em> apparate myself, you know." Given how tipsy she was at the moment, she'd probably throw up if Bella dragged her through side-along. "Assuming I know where we're going."</p><p>"The train station tends to be fairly abandoned for most of the year," she suggested.</p><p>"Fine." Aster closed her eyes, visualising the Hogsmeade platform — its carefully cultivated sense of quaintness, the long, low building painted violet with red and gold trim, the disembarkment area sheltered by a sturdy canopy, lit even this early in the evening, she suspected, by the imitation gas-lamps they'd put in to mimic the muggle styles that were popular when the station was established back in the mid-1800s (but enchanted to light and extinguish themselves based on the level of ambient light, because Bella was right, the station was entirely unmanned for most of the year) — and turned on her heel, slipping out of the universe, through the brief, crushing point that was the Space Between, and back in onto the deserted platform, in a single fluid motion (both physically and magically). She even made sure to go slowly enough that she wouldn't make a huge bloody thunder-clap on re-entry, but lost her balance slightly when she reappeared, because it was <em>possible</em> she was a little more tipsy than she'd thought before standing.</p><p>Bella steadied her, catching her right bicep almost bruisingly tightly. "Ah, thanks," she muttered, trying not to focus on the image that popped into her head of Bella holding her down, letting her fight, struggle like a trapped animal, but refusing to let her go until she was completely exhausted, and then— <em>Damn it, Aster!</em></p><p>Bella smirked like she knew <em>exactly</em> what Aster was thinking, even though she <em>definitely</em> wasn't a legilimens. (Being the same kind of fucked in the head was just <em>cheating</em>.) "Very smooth. Right up to that last bit."</p><p>"Oh, shut up. How much of a <em>pop </em>did I make?"</p><p>She flicked her wand, making a sound like a single tiny muggle firecracker. Not bad. "I'm sure the evaluators will be impressed, assuming you remember to go get your license next month."</p><p>"Wha— Of <em>course</em> I'm going to get my bloody license!" Making sure to apparate only when and where there was no one around who cared that she wasn't technically old enough was an enormous pain in the arse.</p><p>"Hey, I'm just saying, I actually got a citation when I was nineteen because I'd been apparating since I was eleven and completely forgot I should actually officially take the test."</p><p>That probably wouldn't be nearly as funny if she wasn't kind of drunk. "Where did de Mort and Evans go?"</p><p>"Shadow-walking isn't as fast as apparation, and we weren't here for them to orient themselves when they left, so they'll probably be a couple more minutes," she said, sprawling bonelessly across one of the benches no one ever actually used to wait for a train.</p><p>"Right," Aster said, aimlessly wandering in a circle for a few seconds thinking that it would be awfully nice if she could pop into Padfoot's form and get Bella to scratch her ears while they waited. <em>Okay</em>, a distant, relatively unimportant part of her mind thought, <em>you're definitely more drunk than you thought you were.</em> Because Bella generally wasn't an ear-scratching sort of person. <em>Just sit down, Aster, you're pissed.</em> Right. Sitting. Was talking to <em>herself</em> in her own mind crazy person territory?</p><p>She should've asked McKinnon at their meeting yesterday. Would've given her something to talk about while she was awkwardly avoiding everything remotely important, like her family and getting kicked out of her room (which still stung a bit) and living with Evans now, and the fact that she'd just <em>completely forgotten</em> that she was supposed to be visiting the bloody mind-healer when she'd been off on her (honestly quite boring) muggle adventure with Evans and Snape last weekend. Not that she was complaining, talking to Evans's mum was much less awkward than talking to McKinnon. (For her. Probably not for Evans.) Though, he hadn't been <em>too</em> annoyed she'd stood him up, seemed to think it was good progress, her making new friends as a girl, as though <em>being a fucking girl</em> had anything to do with it. Well, she obviously wouldn't be sleeping in Evans's room if she weren't a girl, but she was sure if Evans had wanted to befriend her and demand a truce when she was a boy, this would have gone practically the same. Since Evans could apparently befriend <em>anyone.</em> Even people who weren't really people, but were actually snakes, and didn't have friends.</p><p>At least, she didn't <em>think</em> de Mort had friends. "Does de Mort have friends?" she found herself asking, before the distant, sober part of her mind could tell her that was a stupid question.</p><p>She could tell it was, because Bella gave her Auntie Dru's <em>you're being ridiculous</em> look. "No. Why do you ask?"</p><p>"Because that was weird, right? Like, he doesn't have <em>family</em> either, except <em>you</em>, with your weird incesty father-daughter-lovers thing, but suddenly he and Evans are hitting it off? Even though there's <em>really</em> nothing in it for either of them. It's just, I <em>know</em> neither of them are what you'd call <em>sentimental,</em> really, and they both also know this, and there's absolutely <em>no</em> reason to fake being into this whole <em>surprise, daughter</em> thing, and really, Evans has plenty of reasons to be fucking furious with you both, even if she <em>does</em> like existing. Like she said before he showed up, why should either of them even <em>care</em>?"</p><p>Bella cackled at her plaintive tone of confusion. "You didn't think being a mind mage actually makes you immune to other mind mages, did you? Especially when they're being subtle about it. They're both curious about each other, specifically <em>because</em> the idea of having family — or family you relate to — is foreign and therefore interesting, so they've both been trying to charm each other into opening up and portraying themselves as someone the other finds acceptable and interesting. Frankly, I think it's hilarious. I mean, I'm sure they are actually fairly similar in a number of ways, but if you've noticed, they just kind of focused in on a few topics of shared interest and they've been talking like they could be the exact same person for the last half an hour."</p><p>Aster had noticed, <em>she </em>thought it was <em>creepy as hell</em>, frankly. Though now Bella pointed out it was really just an effect of them trying to use their dirty mind mage tricks on each other, it <em>was</em> kind of funny.</p><p>"He did the exact same thing with Zee the first time <em>they</em> actually had a real conversation. If we didn't have to bring you back for the Feast I'm sure he would start leading Asphodel toward darker subjects, seeing how far she'd follow before she starts resisting the urge to mirror him, map out what is and is not acceptable to talk about with her. That does tend to be his <em>modus operandi</em> when he's playing at being diplomatic, I expect it's only easier if the other person is actively <em>trying</em> to meet you halfway."</p><p>"I'm...not sure she'd stop, though." Aster shuddered, remembering that dead, flat de Mort stare coming from her death-green eyes.</p><p>Bella laughed at her. "She would. Everyone has limits. She already balked at killing children — especially for fun — and the idea of practising torture curses on an innocent Auror when less extreme options were available. I'm sure she's not up for, say, vivisection, or murdering people while possessing them because you get off on it."</p><p>"Does de Mort actually <em>do</em> that?" Aster asked, <em>horrified</em>, and suddenly feeling far less comfortably floaty.</p><p>"Normally I torture them to death while he possesses them. I understand trying to essentially torture yourself is really very distracting." She said it with a straight face, but Aster really couldn't tell if Bella was fucking with her, because she got the <em>distinct</em> impression that Bella was enjoying making her uncomfortable.</p><p>Before she managed to figure it out, de Mort showed up, Evans clinging to his arm and looking like she'd just fallen out of a Gringotts minecart for the first time — both terrified and elated. <em>"Fuck</em>, that's a trip." Well, that was one way to put it. "Hi."</p><p>Bella sniggered. "Hi. If you liked that, I have half a dozen sensory deprivation charms for you to play with."</p><p>"I think it's even weirder when you flirt with Evans than when you flirt with <em>me</em>," Aster noted.</p><p>"That wasn't flirting, Aster, love. Flirting would be offering to show her how they work. And I'm hardly ever flirting with you, either, you're just that desperate. Which is weird, because I <em>know</em> there are at least a <em>few</em> kids in the Castle who like their fun and games a little <em>sharp</em> — do you want a fucking list?"</p><p><em>"No</em>." Approximately all the blood in her body rushed to her face.</p><p><em>Liar</em>.</p><p><em>"Maybe</em>." Was it possible for someone to actually burst into flame from embarrassment?</p><p>
  <em>I don't think so, but I'm sure we can find out if you like.</em>
</p><p><em>"I</em> want a list." Because of course Evans would. "Is Violette Rosier on it? She seems like the type..."</p><p>"Mmm, maybe? I've never really spent much time with her, honestly. Evan is. Laeticia Selwyn. Ian Mulciber, <em>obviously</em>. Dierk Wilkes."</p><p>"Any who <em>aren't</em> baby Death Eaters?" Aster asked.</p><p>"...Asphodel?" That was <em>not helpful</em>. "Really, Aster, how many teenagers do you think I know who <em>aren't</em> potential recruits?"</p><p>Okay, fair. But she wasn't going to go around fucking baby Death Eaters <em>or</em> Evans, so, no, she didn't want or need said list. "<em>Urgh</em>, come on, Evans, we're going to miss the beginning of the Feast if we don't hurry."</p><p>"Er, right. We'll see you later, Bella, um... What should I call you, by the way?"</p><p>De Mort shrugged. "Thom? It does seem a bit pig-headed to insist on formality with one's child."</p><p>"I guess it does a bit. Thom, Bella, we'll see you later."</p><p>De Mort nodded gravely, hissed something which was entirely at odds with his solemnity — Aster was pretty sure it was impossible to look dignified while hissing at someone.</p><p>Evans rolled her eyes at whatever it was.</p><p>Bella giggled, so it was probably some stupid nickname. "Aster, Asphodel."</p><p>"Come <em>on</em>," Aster demanded, grabbing Evans's elbow and tugging her toward the castle. "Later," she called back over her shoulder, intentionally rudely, though she doubted either of them really cared, especially since there were no witnesses to see their authority being publicly undermined.</p><p>"She <em>does</em> know I don't really go by Asphodel, doesn't she?"</p><p>"She knows the daylight world calls you Lily," she said drily, pausing before she realised that didn't really explain that Bella was going to blatantly ignore that fact, probably forever. "Asphodel is the name you chose to use in <em>their</em> world — they barely <em>exist</em> in legitimate, upstanding society, the Death Eaters are pretty much part of the Underground, International Dark scene by definition — so she's going to call you Asphodel unless you tell her not to. And then she'll probably call you Delia or something just to be annoying."</p><p>"Oh. I mean, I don't mind, I just wanted to make sure." They walked in silence for a few minutes, headed not for the main gate but toward one of the secret passages that led from the Forest just outside the wards to a portrait of a bunch of wood elves near the Library. "So...legitimate, law-abiding society is the daylight world?"</p><p>Aster rolled her eyes, though she wasn't looking at Evans, so she probably didn't notice. "It's not <em>funny</em> if I have to explain the joke."</p><p>"It's also not funny if I don't have enough context to get it."</p><p><em>"Ugh</em>, okay." At least it would be something to think about on the way back up to the school other than her sex life, or lack thereof. Or, lack of...potential play-torture partners? Was there a word for that sort of thing? <em>Sex life</em> kind of implied it was difficult to find people who just wanted to shag, which it really wasn't. Whatever, not important. Explaining what exactly the daylight world was. She could do that.</p><p>"So... The daylight world is a kind of disparaging term for human society in general, but especially the self-righteous Light arseholes who aren't just law-abiding, but <em>write</em> the laws, and think vampires and werewolves and all the other so-called dark creatures are evil. It's mostly used by the starlit world, the tiny shadow-society of vampires and werewolves — well, technically <em>upyri</em> and werewolves, mostly, ritual-made vampires are kind of considered abominations — and like...cat wilderfolk. The intelligent, urban, natural non-humans. Sometimes demons. And metamorphs who're disillusioned and/or bored with daylight society. Not goblins or veela, though, they have their own clans. And Fenrir's pack are dead set against the generally pacifistic attitudes of the werewolves who're allied with the upyri, so they were also Underground rather than starlit, even before they joined the Death Eaters.</p><p>"<em>Starlight</em> is pretty much law-abiding — or, well, they <em>would</em> be, if the laws weren't designed to starve them to death. They're not, you know, killers or rapists or even thieves. They're generally peaceful and kind of communal, keep to themselves and work together to eke out a living. Marginalised, but respectable, civilised people. They're just really, <em>really</em> poor. And a lot of them really, <em>really</em> resent the fact that it's daylighter humans that keep them down. Not enough to resort to violence to fight back, but generally speaking humans <em>really</em> aren't welcome in Starlight.</p><p>"<em>Underground</em> is kind of a catch-all for everyone who's <em>not</em> respectable and law-abiding, including anyone with ties to the International Dark or the Death Eaters, who may or may not pass for law-abiding daylighters, as well as petty criminals and less intelligent non-human beings whose <em>existence </em>is essentially outlawed because they prey on other beings, like hags and ritual vampires, and exiles from the starlit world, like Fenrir's pack. The starlit world has ties to the Underground through Anomos, because, well, he basically <em>is</em> the International Dark in Britain. And generally speaking, denizens of the Underground are more acceptable to the starlighters than daylighters, if only because they're also at odds with the daylight world. And they're cool with associating, <em>sometimes</em>, with representatives of the Dark Houses. Technically the Dark Houses are daylighters because we're human and part of mainstream society, but we tend to be sympathetic to the starlit community, working against legislation that would make their lives even harder and helping them get resources to educate their kids and ingredients for healing potions and such. I've heard us referred to as Twilight Houses because we're not <em>really</em> daylighters. Some starlighters think we're insufferably patronising, like Dumbledore can be with muggleborns, but they're not going to turn away help that's actually <em>helpful</em>.</p><p>"The Blacks in particular are generally recognised as being part of the Underground — and therefore <em>really </em>not daylighters despite technically being part of the ruling class — simply because everyone knows we're dark and don't give a flying fuck about the law, and we historically have strong ties to the International Dark community — Miskatonic and its affiliates. We support the starlit world politically, on principle. The House as a whole doesn't do charity, but we also have a history of <em>individuals</em> being sympathetic to Starlight, occasionally integrating into the community and bringing resources with them. Metamorphs especially, one of my great-aunts was starlit when I was little.</p><p>"Bella is human, by human definitions. She's not by pretty much anyone else's. They tend to be more like, if you act human, you're human. If you don't, you're not. Sometimes they're like, if you speak our language and know our culture, you're one of us. Bella cleans up well, and is pretty good at faking being a daylighter, or at least a twilighter, but any non-human who knows her would say she's not human, and therefore if she weren't pretty much the Dark Lady of the Underground, she'd belong in Starlight.</p><p>"And Bella <em>likes</em> being considered <em>both more and less than human</em>, I think. She's always had kind of this absurdly powerful dark sorceress thing going on, and she obviously has the Black Madness, and clearly doesn't really <em>get</em> humans in an instinctive, empathic sort of way. There aren't really fae anymore, but she acts kind of like they supposedly did, in the stories, you know — even dresses like them, all dramatic and provocative. And she definitely doesn't mind people comparing her to a vampire, if she did she wouldn't fight the way she does, with the runic augmentation and the shadow-walking. But she didn't actually turn herself into an abomination, or, well, humans might think so, but the upyri don't. And she managed to earn Greyback's respect, which goes a long way toward earning respect with the other werewolves and everyone who might still be inclined to consider her <em>human</em>, even if they don't like Greyback or want anything to do with him. See, Greyback <em>hates</em> humans, well, <em>mages</em>, anyway, and pretty much everything to do with the daylight world — he was a muggle before he was bitten, so he's only ever seen the way we treat non-humans, which is, to be clear, like shite. So a witch who manages to earn his respect obviously really, <em>really</em> earned it, or isn't as human as she looks.</p><p>"Aunt Cassie introduced Bella to Starlight when she was a little kid, so they know she was <em>born</em> human, but a lot of starlighters were <em>born</em> human, so that's not exactly disqualifying. She's one of the few people who can pass for human who's actually welcome among them." Aster, who'd made a habit of wandering around the edges of London and Charing as both Padfoot and Sirius over the summer, wasn't <em>quite</em> as widely accepted, but they were mostly willing to talk to her. The wilderfolk considered her non-human just because she was comfortable around them in a way humans — even animagi, apparently — tended not to be. She didn't know nearly enough about werewolf or upyri culture to fit in with them, but she did look (and act) <em>a lot</em> like Bella, even as Sirius, so they'd been more willing to give her a chance than they otherwise might have been. "She gives them as much respect as she gives anyone and doesn't go around rubbing it in that she has money, which she really doesn't, anyway — the <em>House</em> of Black is rich, but Arcturus holds the purse-strings, so she can't just give them money or buy a couple apartment buildings for them in Muggle London or something any more than I can.</p><p>"She <em>can</em> give standing orders to the Death Eater healers to treat any starlighters who come to them for help, which is probably the best thing to happen in the starlit world in thirty years." About half the starlighters Aster had met would swear to her as their Lady just for that, their quality of life had apparently improved dramatically over the past five years. "They're pretty fucking sure that if the Death Eaters win the war — or get their New Avalon, I guess — they'll be considered equals under her rule, like the specific non-human groups who've actually allied with the Death Eaters have explicitly been promised." And they were probably justified in thinking that, because Aster would bet anything Bella had given that order not because she was <em>trying</em> to earn their loyalty or affection, but just because she considered them part of the Cause by default and <em>obviously</em> they should have access to the resources at her command, because a House provides for all of its people. "Doesn't hurt that a lot of them suspect Lord Snakeface is some kind of demon with no particular loyalty to the humans over them, and of course they made a name for themselves killing all those vigilantes who targeted non-humans.</p><p>"Anyway, I'd be kind of surprised if she thinks of herself as human any more than de Mort does. I haven't actually heard her call human Britain the daylight world, but it's definitely the sort of thing it would be in character for her to say, and I'd be shocked if she doesn't kind of think of it like that. Basically, I was just putting words in her mouth implying that she's not human and insulting the law-abiding Light. Dumbledore's Britain. But that is why she's going to keep calling you Asphodel. Because it's your name in the Underground, and that's the world she lives in," Aster concluded, as they reached the spiral stair that led up from the tunnel through the grounds to the corridor behind the mirror inside the school.</p><p>"I thought you supported Dumbledore and the Light," Evans said, out of sight as she followed her up the stairs, but vague amusement clear on her voice. Which was really all <em>Lily is your daylighter name</em> deserved, it wasn't nearly funny enough to justify that much explanation. Though if Evans was going to be wandering around in the dark, she probably should know about the major factions beyond the daylight, anyway.</p><p><em>"Jamie</em> supports Dumbledore and the Light. I <em>don't</em> support murdering children because the Aurors get <em>extra angry</em> when you do shite like that, and you're not <em>really</em> <em>alive </em>unless someone's trying to kill you. If it was all elevating the starlit world and exploring esoteric magics and building impossible islands and preparing to end the Statute, I'd be—"</p><p>"Wait, <em>what?</em> Are you serious? They're really going to kill the Statute?"</p><p>"What? Well, not any time <em>soon</em>, I'm sure. De Mort just said something earlier about the Queen being open to New Avalon in the same way the Americans are to Miskatonic, and that having something to do with the inevitable collapse of the Statute. Anyway, if the war and all the heinous shite they've done in the name of provoking the Ministry wasn't an issue, like all that was done with and it was a choice between living in their little Dark utopia and Dumbledore's Britain..." Well, <em>she</em> would be more comfortable in New Avalon, she suspected, but Jamie wouldn't go for it. Charlus had been one of Dumbledore's staunchest supporters for <em>decades</em>. James had been raised to follow his principles every bit as much as Aster had those of the Dark.</p><p>"What exactly do you see in Potter, again? He <em>is</em> the reason you're hesitating, right?"</p><p>She had <em>better</em> not be about to suggest that Aster just give up on Jamie. "I <em>love him</em>, Evans! I'm pretty sure it'd be easier for me to live in his world than for him to live in theirs." <em>Pretty sure.</em></p><p>"Yeah, but, aside from that whole <em>obsession</em> thing, why? Because, <em>I'm </em>pretty sure any half-decent mind mage could fix that for you."</p><p>Aster stopped, spinning in place quickly enough that Evans, three stairs behind, almost ran into her. <em>"Do not</em> say shite like that, Evans. Love isn't something that needs to be <em>fixed</em>, it's— How would Snape take it, if I told him that any half-decent mind mage could probably fix his little obsession with <em>you?"</em></p><p>"Yeah, okay, not well, I'll grant you that. But see, the difference is, I <em>know</em> Sev's mine. I don't do shite like treat him like a fucking stranger because he changed his hair or whatever."</p><p>Okay, while it was kind of nice that Evans recognised how little difference it made that Aster was now a girl, on the other hand, "Oh, that is such dragonshite! You refused to talk to him all summer because he called you a mudblood at the end of last term!" Also, if Snape did something different to his hair, it would probably be cause for celebration, his hair was <em>terrible</em>.</p><p>Evans's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You don't know me, Black. You don't know why I do <em>anything</em>. I've been taking care of Sev as best I can since we were <em>six</em>, sharing my lunch with him and standing up to the kids who had a problem with the poor, quiet, weirdo from the other side of town. I've been healing his bruises and broken fingers as long as I can remember — his father, you might've guessed, is the angry drunk he mentioned when we went home, he <em>hates</em> magic, thinks his wife betrayed him, never telling him about it before Sev turned out magical. She's a <em>depressed</em> drunk, can't care about <em>herself</em>, let alone Sev. When we were nine, he slept in my bed for an entire week before my father found out. His mother never noticed he was gone. I'd take his place in a heartbeat if I could, because Sev... Sev is <em>far</em> too good for that life. He's soft and kind and <em>brilliant</em>—" <em>Soft and kind? Were they talking about the same Snape?</em> "—and a much better person than I am — if <em>I</em> were a legilimens, his father would have walked in front of a lorry two years ago, as soon as I figure out how to give someone an aneurysm with a freeform spell he's fucking <em>dead</em> — and the world has done <em>nothing</em> but beat him down. That includes <em>you</em>, by the way, and Potter, and those would-be Death Eater twats. I've been helping him fight back against you all since our first fucking week here, if you recall.</p><p>"If I asked <em>him</em> what he sees in <em>me</em>, he'd say I'm the only person who's ever made him feel <em>wanted</em>, the only person he trusts and knows he can depend on to help him <em>no matter what</em>. I've earned that by <em>being there</em> for him, no matter what." Aster tried not to let her discomfort show at that, because even if it wasn't Jamie's fault, the last couple of months had definitely demonstrated that she couldn't really count on him the same way Snape could Evans. "I know because I <em>did</em> ask him when he forgave me for giving him the brush off all summer, and then fucking <em>you</em>, because I <em>know</em> that was a ridiculous overreaction from a normal person's perspective, and I also know how lucky I am that he can read my fucking mind and understands why I did it! Which is <em>not</em> because he called me a fucking mudblood! Get this through your fucking head <em>right fucking now:</em> I take care of what's <em>mine.</em> Sev knows that, he's known it since we were <em>children</em>. He <em>knew</em> that telling me he didn't <em>want</em> me to stand up for him anymore was basically saying he didn't want <em>me</em> in his <em>life</em> anymore.</p><p>"Which <em>obviously</em> he didn't actually want, he just thought he'd try to be a noble, self-sacrificing fucking <em>arse</em> and push me away to keep me out of the line of fire with those <em>stupid fucking cunts</em> who've been trying to recruit him — <em>apparently</em> they've been threatening me to pressure him — but that honestly never occurred to me, because <em>really?</em> I know they don't know me very <em>well</em>, but they know me better than the Gryffindors, they had to know that's a <em>terrible</em> plan, because I would fucking die before I'd let them take him against his will. It <em>might</em> have worked if Sev hadn't caved and told me why he did it — convincing Sev to push me away to 'protect' me and thereby making himself <em>far</em> more vulnerable to their pressure and persuasion has Reggie's name <em>all</em> over it—" <em>Or Narcissa's</em>, Aster thought. "—but Sev <em>did</em> tell me, and now I know Reggie doesn't actually have the pull to call for a raid on my parents or some fucking shite, he's going down. <em>Hard</em>."</p><p>"Don't kill him," Aster advised her, momentarily distracted. "I know they said if the baby Death Eaters can't handle one teenage witch with a vendetta against them, they aren't worthy of becoming Death Eaters, and if you're de Mort's daughter you can figure out how to make them lay off Snape yourself—" In much the same way Aster suspected Bella would tell her to deal with Walburga herself, they'd refused to intervene in the recruitment war over Snape. "—but don't kill Reggie. Bella wouldn't take it well."</p><p>"Yes, yes, I know, he's on the List of People Bella Doesn't Want Dead, Thom already warned me he wouldn't stop her from punishing me if I violated the List." Oh, good. That was just...not really reassuring at all, actually, that de Mort had also thought that was a legitimate warning that needed to be given. "Fixing Sev's 'obsession' with <em>me</em> would be like fixing <em>your</em> 'obsession' with <em>Bellatrix</em>, you fucking twat, not Potter." <em>Wait, what? Why are we talking about </em>me? "There <em>is</em> no analogy for fixing your relationship with Potter—" <em>Oh, right. Her stupid conviction that Jamie doesn't deserve my love</em>. "—because your relationship with Potter is— Actually, no, you and Potter are almost exactly like Marlene and <em>you</em>, last spring. <em>You</em> are hopelessly, obsessively devoted, and <em>he</em> doesn't give a single bloody shite. Sure, you're <em>friends</em>, but he's thinking casual fucking where you're thinking marriage vows. Except, that's fucking <em>reasonable</em> in comparison, because you're <em>really</em> thinking vows of fealty, and <em>he's</em> really thinking he doesn't even <em>know</em> you, because he <em>doesn't!"</em></p><p>"That is <em>so</em> not true, you <em>fucking </em>bitch!" Aster snapped, seriously contemplating tackling her down the stairs for saying such a thing. <em>No, don't, that would prove she's getting to you, and you're not drunk enough that it wouldn't hurt.</em></p><p>"Oh, it <em>definitely</em> is. And on top of that, I <em>hate</em> to break it to you, but no matter how much Potter may seem like the ideal Gryffindor — noble and honourable and worth following — he's not the sort of person who can command <em>followers</em>. He's just <em>not</em>. He's like Sev, the idea of responsibility scares him — except Sev's scared because he's never been <em>allowed </em>to make a major decision for himself in his entire life, and Potter's a sheltered fucking <em>child</em>, his head stuffed full of stories and ideals and pretty delusions that don't map to the real world, and he doesn't know what to do when no one's told him what to do in a situation like this. Why does <em>he </em>support Dumbledore? Does he even <em>know?</em> Or is it just because his father has, all his life, so clearly it's the right thing to do?"</p><p>"Well <em>obviously</em> it's the right thing to do, because de Mort and Bella are fucking <em>evil!</em> I know it's hard to remember when they're being charming fucking bastards, but they <em>murder children</em>, Evans! It's not all academics and pushing the boundaries of what's possible and maybe someday dismantling the Statute, it's <em>little kids</em> being <em>butchered</em> in a fucking <em>primary school</em> because it's <em>fun</em>."</p><p>"A reason to oppose the Death Eaters is not the same as a reason to <em>support</em> the <em>Light</em>. You told me the other day that the Dark houses don't like the Death Eaters either, they just don't have anyone to rally around to oppose them. Why fight for Dumbledore and the Ministry instead of trying to put together an <em>effective</em> force to stop them?"</p><p>"Well, that would just be playing their game, wouldn't it," Aster scoffed. "I'm sure they'd be thrilled if we added a third side to their war. Wouldn't get us any closer to <em>peace</em>, but it would be more entertaining in the meanwhile. There's no way it would ever work. We'd be starting from behind, and Bella's not going to give a fucking <em>inch</em>. Her troops are well-trained and battle-hardened, and we don't have enough battle-trained sorcerers to effectively oppose both her <em>and</em> de Mort," or enough battlemages to match the Death Eaters <em>in general</em>, "and if she has to soak every inch of this island in blood to get what she wants, she <em>will</em>. This is the woman who spent two and a half <em>years</em> tearing her own body apart just because she wanted to do something everyone else said was impossible, who's spent her entire <em>life</em> refusing to back down even in the face of <em>superior</em> force — she wasn't fucking exaggerating when she said the I.C.W. <em>might</em> be able to stop them, but she'd fight to the last fucking man."</p><p>"Then why fight for Dumbledore? Why become an Auror? If you don't think they can win, why not go into politics and try to reach a diplomatic solution?"</p><p><em>"Argh!</em> Because I'm fucking <em>shite</em> at politics, Evans! I'm a fighter, I don't make rousing speeches or negotiate for <em>anything</em>, protecting people by cursing other people is pretty much as far as my ability to be a good person goes, okay?! Why are we even <em>talking</em> about this? People are going to notice we're not at the Feast. Aren't you supposed to be a prefect?"</p><p>"Yes, and I'm pretty sure the only reason McGee picked me is that I was already an outsider in the dorm, but that's not the point. We're talking about this because you hesitated to say that you'd live in a Dark utopia, if such a thing just <em>existed</em> and there wasn't a war over it or anything, over the Magical Britain we live in <em>now</em>, because <em>Jamie</em> fucking <em>Potter</em> would want to stay here. Even though you <em>obviously</em> agree with the Dark on pretty much everything <em>other</em> than the fact that Potter likes Dumbledore. For no fucking reason, as far as I can see. If you didn't want to talk about it, you shouldn't have brought it up!"</p><p>"I don't agree with them on <em>everything</em> — magical superiority is dumb, and pureblood supremacy is so stupid I have no words."</p><p>Evans sighed, leaning against the outer wall of the staircase. "You told my mother you thought muggles only existed in stories to scare children until you were six."</p><p>"I <em>did</em>." If werewolves didn't count (and they didn't), she hadn't actually <em>met</em> a non-magical human until she was...twelve, maybe? She'd first started sneaking out into Muggle London after coming home from school the first time. Or, well, Filch, she guessed. Eleven, then.</p><p>"I thought <em>witch</em> was a bad word until I was five, when Sev told me I was one. Do you really think it's so stupid for mages to think their way of life is better than muggles', or for muggles to be scared of magic? Because things people don't understand are fucking terrifying, and keeping us apart only makes us more foreign to each other. People who believe in magical superiority have probably never <em>spoken</em> to a muggle, let alone bothered to see how they live. And pureblood supremacy is a blatant, pathetic attempt to maintain the power of the Noble Houses in the face of the common houses demanding representation in the Wizengamot. At least <em>loosening</em> the Statute fixes the one, and abolishing or separating from the institution of the Wizengamot and accompanying concept of nobility in favour of more democratic government fixes the other."</p><p>"Oh, yes, because branding all of your followers with soul magic and essentially making yourself their king is so <em>very</em> democratic!"</p><p>"Well, on the one hand, I don't think it's a terrible idea to demand some assurance of absolute loyalty from your fucking <em>military</em> — they don't mark <em>everyone</em>, you know that — that soul-brand linking thing he did means, yeah, okay, he has a back-door into their minds from however far away, and can probably draw on their magic to anchor himself if he needs it. But I think it also means if enough of the Death Eaters decide they're done with Thom, <em>they</em> can pull on <em>him</em>, drain away <em>his</em> power, basically fucking eat him alive."</p><p>That was... That <em>had</em> to have occurred to de Mort. He wouldn't have done something like that on purpose, would he? But it also didn't seem like the kind of mistake he would make, overlooking that his soul-stealing power tap could be used against him. "Even if it does work like that, pretty much all of them would have to gang up on him before he realises what's happening, and how likely is that?"</p><p>"I don't think it would take <em>all</em> of them. Maybe...three quarters of them? I dunno, it'd probably depend how many mind-mages he's marked. And how much of what they told us today you can actually figure out analysing the mark without alerting him to what you're doing. But if you read the manifesto, I didn't get the impression he actually <em>wants</em> to be a king. Actually, talking to him today, I didn't get the impression he wants to be a leader of anything other than Project Atlantis, and it's not like he's some terrible despot crushing the Sunken Atlantis defectors. But my point was, just, you're basically telling me you'd choose <em>James fucking Potter</em> over even an <em>imaginary utopia</em> that you don't have <em>any</em> real objections to, just wondered if you had a reason for that that <em>wasn't</em> complete shite. You were the one who's all like <em>I love him, I'm going to try to turn this around on you and Sev, let's argue about the fucking Death Eaters</em>. And you're kind of blocking the stairs. That's why we're talking about this."</p><p>Aster had <em>no</em> words. "I hate you, Evans."</p><p>"I hear love and hate can be hard to tell apart sometimes," Evans quipped, with an absolutely <em>infuriating</em> smirk.</p><p>"I'm pretty sure if de Mort weren't a fucking Dark Lord, he'd still be a fucking serial killer," Aster snapped, which was the first thing that came to mind in response to the idea that de Mort didn't actually want to lead his New Avalon. She wasn't even going to dignify the love and hate comment with a response. She turned and stomped up the last few steps before Evans could come up with an answer to that one, and ignored her attempts to talk on the way back down to the Great Hall.</p><hr/><p>I think it's worth noting, here, that at the time I didn't know Evans had already decided that she probably wouldn't care if she found out her father was a serial killer. Yes, I know she meant her <em>muggle</em> father, but, <em>the irony</em>. Also, a lot of important things happened on Samhain of Seventy-Six, and none of them were much fun at all for me. I'm going to keep my notes to a minimum here, and just...try to get through this as quickly as possible.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Carpe Diem, the Holiday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They weren't <em>that</em> late. Dumbledore had already made his little speech and the main course was up, though, since it was Samhain, there were loads of candies and desserts and such scattered among the chicken and pork. "Ooh, hey, Pete, pass me a slice of that volcano cake!" she said, poking Remus in the arm until he made space for her on the bench. There wasn't a plate there, but that sounded like Pete's problem to solve.</p><p>"Asteria? Where have you— Have you been <em>drinking</em>?" Moony asked, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper-yell halfway through asking where she'd been.</p><p>"Mmm, we went to this fancy pizzeria for lunch, I think it might be a front for the Mafia."</p><p>"We? Who's <em>we</em>?" Jamie demanded from her other side.</p><p>Aster sighed. He was <em>not </em>going to like this answer. But she didn't like to lie to Jamie. "Bella kidnapped Evans and me from town, and then de Mort showed up, and they spent all afternoon being enormous <em>nerds</em>. You, Moony, would have been in nerd-heaven. I, on the other hand, was bored, and there was wine, so yes, I have been drinking."</p><p>"You did <em>what?</em> With— <em>Why</em>?"</p><p>"I find that most <em>why</em>-questions in life can be answered by embracing the simple fact that Bellatrix is insane. There doesn't need to be a reason for her to kidnap me from Hogsmeade, or burn a hole in my favourite shirt — not that this <em>was</em> my favourite shirt until she went and ruined it, but—"</p><p>"Siri– <em>Aster!</em> Focus!"</p><p>"Hey, pass this over," Pete said, handing a plate to Remus.</p><p><em>Ooh, cake!</em> It was a sort of chocolaty-caramel flavoured thing, and the lava was...strawberry-orange preserves, of some sort? Sweet but tart, gooey and somehow also crumbly... Fucking <em>delicious</em>.</p><p>"Aster!"</p><p>"I am focusing," she mumbled, around a bite of the most <em>amazing </em>cake.</p><p>"Not on the fucking cake, Sirius!" Jamie snapped. "Are you okay? What did they want with you?"</p><p>"Why wouldn't I be? Slightly tipsy. ...Maybe more than slightly." Maybe not quite as much as she was acting, but she didn't actually want to talk about the things she <em>knew</em> James was going to want to talk about, and definitely not in the middle of the Great Hall, and being slightly drunk was a <em>great</em> excuse to be kind of rambly and avoid answering uncomfortable questions. Definitely not enough to forget to cast a few anti-eavesdropping charms, keep Gudgeon and Teague from paying them too much attention. "Unsure whether de Mort tortures people to death while possessing them, or if Bella was just fucking with me. Remind me to put it in my diary that I actually need to apply for an apparation license, would you, Remy? And I'm pretty sure they just wanted to be nerdy in my general vicinity. Probably because they know it annoys me, them being all interesting and shite when they're also still <em>very</em> evil."</p><p>"Well, what did you talk about?" Remus asked, in that overly patient tone that hopefully meant, yes, he would remind Aster to get her apparation license, because he was a responsible sort like that.</p><p>"Technical difficulties involved in building a floating island, mostly. And a time machine. Also arithmancy. A <em>lot</em> of arithmancy. And if Bella manages to break time she's going after neighboring planes next. Gotta feel a bit sorry for the Abominations, eh?" James and Remus just gave her a <em>look</em>. Pete leaned around Remus so he could do it, too. "I <em>told</em> you, Bellatrix is insane, there really isn't any better explanation than that!" Or at least, not one that was hers to tell. It'd be rude to let out that Evans was de Mort's kid, like, four whole hours before she did it herself. "Oh, also, they may be coming to the Samhain Revel, because no one listens to <em>me</em> when I say this is a terrible idea. Or think it very pointedly in their direction, but everyone knows he's eavesdropping, same difference really. And by may be, I mean definitely are."</p><p>"They're <em>what</em>? Why<em>?</em> We have to tell Dumbledore!"</p><p>"Coming to the ritual, presumably to catch up with all the people they've killed this year? Or, well, Bella's probably doing that now, actually." True dark was just falling, the last of the indigo fading out of the enchanted ceiling, so it was probably about sunset down at the Keep. Technically it was an all-night thing, appeasing the vengeful Dead, but after the Family actually <em>did</em> the ritual (at sunset) nothing really happened until the murderers went to sleep and let the Dead take their frustrations out on them until dawn. "I don't know, really, the whole situation is bloody <em>odd</em>. And I'm pretty sure the wards will tell Dumbledore, but I guess if you really want to knock yourself out."</p><p>"Aster. Focus. You don't think maybe they could be <em>planning</em> something, do you?" Pete asked.</p><p>"What, like a raid on the fucking Samhain Revel?"</p><p>"Yes, Sirius, something like that!"</p><p>"No, pretty sure they didn't plan this at all. De Mort might try to butt in on the ritual, because he's a scene-stealing wanker like that, but he's not <em>stupid</em>. Ruining the Revel would piss off both Evans <em>and</em> Persephone, and they'd probably never speak to him again. Or, well, Persephone might just decide to ruin all of his plans forever. Actually, Evans might decide to do that, too. Whatever, he's not a braindead idiot, he knows better than to deny Death her due."</p><p>"Why would Lord Snakefucker care if Evans is talking to him?" Pete asked.</p><p>
  <em>Damn you, perceptive little rodent!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because they're basically the same fucking person, it's creepy as hell?</em>
</p><p>No, that wouldn't do.</p><p>
  <em>Because he's decided he likes the idea of having a kid, since they're basically the same fucking person?</em>
</p><p>...Also no.</p><p>
  <em>Because, sorry to tell you, Jamie, you may have some competition for the hand of your fair Lily-flower?</em>
</p><p>"Pass the potatoes, Jamie? And the gravy, please."</p><p>"Sir– <em>Aster</em>! Why would de Mort care if—"</p><p>"See, Pete, when you <em>know</em> I heard you, and I don't answer the question, it's probably because I don't have a good answer to the question."</p><p>"Yeah, but if you didn't know, you'd say <em>fuck if I know, Petey</em>, so you <em>do</em> know, so why would—"</p><p>Aster scowled at him, because he was absolutely right. "I can know the answer and not have a good way to say it. But fine. They hit it off, him and Evans. She mentioned they're doing something different tonight, and invited him to come see. He's a high magic swot, among his other swotty and/or evil interests, so obviously he said yes, despite my very pointed thinking that this is a terrible idea." There, that was fine. An explanation that was true and was even vaguely accurate, and didn't involve Lily Evans really being Asphodel de Mort.</p><p>"I don't believe you."</p><p>Aster pouted at him. "You never believe me when I tell you anything about Evans. When you finally get it, I'm going to owe you like two-thousand '<em>I told you so</em>'s, but I'm such a nice person I'll probably stop at a hundred or so."</p><p>"She...does know he's the Dark Lord, right?" Remus asked, conflicted and troubled. Good man. Smarter than the rest of them put together.</p><p>"Of course she does. He's an evil git. But he's also a charming fucking bastard. I brought up fucking <em>Kensington</em>, and it took him all of thirty seconds to spin the conversation back to political philosophy and the idea of nation-building, and how all they're really doing is holding Britain and the people it's committed to protect from magic, i.e. muggles, hostage until Dumbledore caves and comes to the fucking table to negotiate a peace. Or, alternatively, until he calls in the I.C.W. and Bella gets to fight a <em>real</em> war, and they end up taking over all of Europe when they <em>really</em> only want the Isle of Man, and everything falls apart after six months, because at a certain point you can't administrate a whole bloody <em>nation</em> like a single House, and proper <em>governing</em> is boring anyway. There's <em>paperwork</em>."</p><p>"And...she <em>believed</em> him?"</p><p>Aster leaned around Remy to look at Pete as she answered him. <em>"Of course</em> she believed him! <em>I</em> believe him, and I <em>know</em> he's an evil, snake-faced git who could lie to the bloody Morrigan and get away with it."</p><p>"<em>You</em> believed him," Jamie repeated, sounding completely dumbfounded. When Aster turned back to him, he was giving her that same <em>who even are you?</em> look he'd worn that night they'd almost killed Snape.</p><p>It was really fucking annoying.</p><p>"I did, yeah," Aster said defiantly. "I don't think he's got the right idea about how to get there, and he'll probably still torture and kill people in his spare time if he gets it, but yes, I think he would stop if Britain gave him his autonomy. Mostly because, if he wanted an empire he'd already have Britain in his pocket. And I believe Bella when <em>she</em> says trying to stop them by force is a lost cause at this point. And I'll definitely join the Aurors and fight them anyway, but I'll just be helping to delay the inevitable."</p><p>"It's not just about stopping de Mort, Siri. It's about stopping his ideology. We can't let the Dark get that kind of permanent foot-hold in Britain, because even if <em>de Mort</em> stops with Mann, which <em>I'm</em> not convinced he would, he'd still be making a base for evil to spread from, like his own fucking Miskatonic right in the middle of our bloody country! Besides, I'm sure if it were a lost cause, Dumbledore would stop wasting people's lives fighting them."</p><p>Aster could almost hear Evans's voice asking <em>what's so bad about that, then?</em> at the back of her head. She didn't ask, she knew Jamie would just remind her that they'd be practising dangerous, illegal magics and endangering the Statute and following the Dark Powers and de Mort would be <em>allowed</em> to torture and kill people in his spare time if he wanted, instead of (theoretically) being held accountable to the law or <em>literally anyone</em>. And she knew <em>Bella</em> would tell her that the <em>really</em> bad thing about allowing the Dark any degree of legitimacy was that <em>people might like it better than the Light</em>. "Would he, though?"</p><p>She knew it was a bad question to ask, that she shouldn't be doubting him, but it was hard, after spending the day with Bella and de Mort, not to think that they had at least <em>some</em> things the right way around. If nothing else, Bella was <em>hardly</em> the sort to overestimate her position. If she said they were going to win in the end, they were going to win — barring divine intervention, Aster guessed, but. It was hard to believe Dumbledore didn't know that too, that he wouldn't have already cut his losses if he was going to. Crouch had been trying to bring them down for <em>years</em> now.</p><p>"Of course he would! We're not the Dark, Sirius! Bella and de Mort might not care about the people who fight for them, but Dumbledore does!"</p><p>Aster smirked at the irony there. No, Bella and de Mort didn't care about their people <em>as people</em>, but they knew their <em>value</em>, they wouldn't waste them fighting a war they were <em>definitely</em> going to lose. She'd been exaggerating a bit, earlier, when she'd said Bella would fight to the last man — <em>she </em>might refuse to surrender, but she'd let the Death Eaters go, probably with the mission to eventually rebuild and carry on the Cause while she covered their retreat. It was <em>much</em> more likely de Mort would order her to knock it off, and she'd set fiendfire loose in Muggle London before leading their forces to Greenland or Miskatonic or wherever, Aster was sure they had <em>some</em> kind of back-up plan in mind. Or, well, they might just <em>take</em> Mann, they could probably hold it pretty indefinitely, but whatever, not the point. Dumbledore, on the other hand, had <em>principles</em>. And Aster wasn't at all sure that he valued his people's lives more than the Greater Good — which was a Grindelwald slogan, but Aster was pretty sure Dumbledore had his own idea of the Greater Good as well. That he cared about them meant he'd feel <em>bad</em> about ordering them to their deaths for a lost cause, not that he wouldn't <em>do</em> it.</p><p>"Does he care about us more than he cares about making sure that the Dark doesn't <em>get a permanent toe-hold in Britain</em>?"</p><p>Not that that was what it was actually about, anyway. At least, not the way Aster saw it. The whole <em>point</em> was that they wouldn't <em>be</em> Britain anymore. They would've proven that they could defy the Wizengamot and the Ministry with impunity, which, <em>that</em> would give people <em>bad ideas</em>. If the Dark Houses gained more power <em>in </em>the Wizengamot, Dumbledore himself might lose power, but if the <em>Death Eaters</em> — who weren't <em>really</em> the Dark, or if they were they were <em>only</em> the Underground, illegitimate part of it (the Dark Houses were just as firmly established as the Light Houses and their philosophy was already securely embedded in Britain, historically <em>and</em> now) — were to gain power, enough power to break off from Magical Britain, and the Noble Houses didn't take some collective military action to stop them — which they <em>couldn't</em>, really, like she'd just told Evans, they'd let Bella get too far in recruiting and training her own army — that undermined everything Britain <em>was</em> as an institution.</p><p>It showed people they <em>could</em> refuse to cooperate with the Wizengamot, in a way they hadn't <em>really</em> been challenged since they first managed to pacify and unify the country — the Wizengamot <em>had</em> been <em>much</em> more representative when it was founded, with each family powerful enough to demand a seat at the table sending someone to argue on their own behalf in decisions that involved them all and organise against collective threats, but it had never represented <em>everyone</em>. Which hadn't really been a problem until the Statute. There'd been small families who weren't included, and a few now-long-dead Noble and Most Ancient Houses that had flatly refused to cooperate with some decision or other that was otherwise unanimous, and essentially got themselves killed for their trouble, trying to start a feud with <em>literally every other House with any power to speak of, at the same time.</em> Not to mention cults, non-human enclaves, and even whole kingdoms in some cases, who refused to participate from the beginning when they <em>could</em> have demanded a seat just like the rest of them. (Which was why they'd had <em>seventeen</em> wars with the goblins before reaching the current state of affairs.)</p><p>What de Mort was doing was basically <em>that</em> — not trying to <em>overthrow</em> the Wizengamot (which a few Dark Lords had tried and failed over the centuries) but explicitly withdrawing his consent to be governed by them. And since their power was based mostly on banding together to take collective action against any threat — but so many of the Noble Houses had gone soft in the centuries since the Statute was imposed, letting the Ministry enforce laws instead — they really didn't have any way to stop him. (Traditionally, all noble children, or at least those with an aptitude for it, were trained in military strategy and battlemagic, much like the Blacks, but hardly any of them bothered anymore.) And the Ministry didn't have a standing army. There was a small corp of proper battlemages who were expected to enlist in the Aurors (most of whom <em>were</em> elite fighters) and the Hit Wizards (who were pretty good at dealing with civilian disturbances, riots and shite like that) if they needed to deal with a goblin uprising or nascent dark lord or something, but the Aurors and Hit Wizards <em>overwhelmingly</em> dealt with civilians, not military organisations trained to their own standards or better (not that Aster thought they really understood how well the Death Eaters were trained), and they <em>did</em> have their own jobs to do. Since they weren't in a state of open war, the Ministry couldn't really justify re-tasking every single one of them to (try to) deal with the Death Eaters.</p><p>So, basically, they were fucked.</p><p>It was one thing to tell everyone humans won the last goblin war, that they <em>serve</em> humans by running the Bank and if they decide to deny humans access to their vaults the Ministry can just create a fiat currency, it's <em>fine</em> — while everyone with half a brain knew that they <em>definitely</em> hadn't won that war, and it had clearly been a bloody stupid idea to start using the London tunnels captured in the Eighth Goblin War as a bloody <em>bank</em> in the first place, but they had, and when the goblins finally took them back they took all the money and books and artefacts too, and the current treaty was the best the Wizengamot could do under the circumstances, especially since the Ministry supported it, expressly <em>because</em> it limited the nobility's power, and the <em>Ministry</em> controlled the Hit Wizards. They were fucking <em>goblins</em>, they weren't about to start involving themselves in human politics and debate the point. It was a <em>very</em> different thing to tell everyone you won a war when there was suddenly a new bloody country in the Irish Sea, and it was run by charismatic human leaders, including the most prominent member of a Noble and Most Ancient House, their disdain for the current system all the more striking because Bellatrix, at least, had every opportunity to take power <em>through</em> the Wizengamot rather than in opposition to it.</p><p>And if the government of Magical Britain couldn't do the <em>one</em> thing they were <em>expressly created to do</em> — i.e., to arbitrate and enforce the collective decisions of the Wizengamot on any member House or citizen who dissented — <em>what the hell was it good for?</em></p><p>That was, Aster was pretty sure, what Dumbledore was really fighting for: the good of everyone who would suffer if Magical Britain completely fell apart.</p><p><em>Damn it!</em> She should have made <em>that</em> point when Evans was being all <em>de Mort-ish</em> earlier in the stairwell! If the Death Eaters succeeded, they would throw the entire country into turmoil because they wouldn't <em>overthrow and replace</em> the current government, they'd just undermine it so it would completely collapse, and then everyone would be fucked!</p><p>"Could <em>anyone </em>pass me some real food?" she asked the boys, while Jamie worked through her last question. "Since Jamie apparently doesn't care if I starve to death in this potatoless desert. Doesn't matter what."</p><p>"What? Sorry, here," he said, finally handing the platter over. "I...think he'd say, Dumbledore, that letting the Dark establish itself, you know, legitimately, is a threat to everyone, so it's not— If a few more people die in the war, and save a load of people from the Dark later down the line, that's... Well, not <em>good</em>, but, you know, one of those hard choices that generals have to make in a war."</p><p>Yeah, he probably would, but... <em>"Would</em> it be saving a load of people, though? I was just telling Evans about the starlighters, you know, and they'd <em>definitely</em> be better off with the Dark running things."</p><p>The Death Eaters would probably do better than the actual Dark, really. Bella and de Mort obviously couldn't give a shite about species, they were <em>barely</em> human themselves. And on the other hand, there were enough human supremacists in Britain that even if the Dark Houses in the Wizengamot, the ones who <em>actually</em> prioritised magic above species, <em>did</em> end up in power somehow (which didn't really seem <em>likely</em>) they'd still have to compromise and fight pretty fucking hard to get <em>any</em> rights for non-humans at all.</p><p>Jamie made a face at her, changing the subject. "I still can't believe you spent a whole month hanging out with vampires and bloody <em>wilderfolk</em>. You could've just come to ours off the train, you know!"</p><p>"And werewolves," she reminded him, Remus stiffening on her other side. She and Jamie had <em>never</em> agreed on non-human rights. Jamie followed Dumbledore in accepting werewolves, but only because—</p><p>"Yeah, but werewolves are human except, you know, that time of the month!" —<em>that</em>. He could be <em>shockingly</em> prejudiced about the rest of them. "Wilderfolk are creepy, and vampires <em>eat people</em>."</p><p>"Upyri don't." Though she had run into a few <em>vampire</em> vampires over the summer as well, lurking on the outskirts of society. They hadn't exactly been <em>friendly</em>, but they hadn't tried to lure her into a dark alley and bleed her or some shite. Well, they'd already <em>been</em> in dark alleys at the time, but— Whatever. "And I like wilderfolk. You probably would too, if you spent any time around them as Prongs." They were just...<em>refreshingly uncomplicated</em>. Granted, most of the ones in the City were <em>cats</em>, and Aster wasn't really a <em>cat person</em>, but they weren't <em>that</em> weird.</p><p>"What difference does that make? They're still— You <em>know</em> where they come from! It's just..."</p><p>Ah, right, so...probably shouldn't admit that Paddy had gotten a leg over more than once down in Hogsmeade. Speaking of which, she should probably ask Bella if that curse carried over into her animagus form, because there was no way in hell she was getting herself knocked up <em>as a dog</em>. "Um...everything's simpler and more immediate as Padfoot? Plus, you know, instincts? Makes it easier to read the wilderfolk. And yes, I know where they come from. That's not <em>their</em> fault."</p><p>"I...don't think you did that ritual right, S– Aster," Pete said, as James just gave her a completely baffled look. "Everything's still exactly the same for me, you know, when we change. Just bigger."</p><p>"Me, too," James agreed. "Just...pretty much the same size." Well <em>obviously</em>, Prongs's head was about the same height as Jamie's.</p><p>"Um, <em>I</em> don't think <em>you two</em> did it right, then, because—" She cut herself off before she could point out that she had a <em>lot</em> more experience with subsumation than they did. If anyone had done it <em>right </em>out of the three of them, it would be her. But that was hardly something to admit in the middle of the Great Hall, privacy charms or no. "—<em>reasons</em>. The whole point was to take on the animal's instincts."</p><p>"I thought the point was so we didn't keep tripping over our own feet and getting stuck in trees."</p><p>Aster sniggered. She'd forgotten Prongs kept getting his prongs caught in the brush at first. "Well that's <em>part</em> of it. But I don't think you went as far as you could've done." A strangled, half-choked snort came from her other side, Moony clearly trying not to laugh. <em>"What?"</em></p><p>"Nothing, just, that's where wilderfolk come from, right? Following your instincts and going as far as you can?"</p><p>Well that was just <em>shockingly</em> dirty for Remus — more the sort of thing she'd expect Pete to say. She grinned. "Moony! I am <em>shocked</em> you would imply such a thing! A lady doesn't kiss and tell!"</p><p>He rolled his eyes, as Pete behind him went <em>beet</em>-red. Again, weird. Well, weird for Pete, Remus probably didn't believe she really had. Or else the Wolf made it less weird to just <em>follow your instincts</em>. "You're pissed, you know that, right? I should take points for that."</p><p>"Can you still take points if you're resigning? Actually, is there even a rule against <em>being pissed?</em> I mean, bringing booze back to the Tower yeah, but if I get pissed at some Mafia pizzeria, I don't think that's actually against the rules." Not that she (and everyone else) didn't bring booze back to the Tower all the time too, and Moony never enforced that rule, but that wasn't the point.</p><p>"You're underage. Being pissed means you've <em>obviously</em> been breaking the law drinking, regardless of where, which is against the rules. Or alternatively, Professor McGonagall would flip, so you're clearly breaking the No Ruining Minnie's Chill rule."</p><p>Well, that wasn't fair <em>at all</em>. No Ruining Minnie's Chill wasn't even a real rule. It was one Aster had made up as a joke to summarise all the other rules. "Only if she catches me. And if we actually care about <em>laws</em> now, Bella was there, you're allowed to drink if you're accompanied by an adult-ly, parental sort of person, right?" Honestly, Aster wasn't really familiar with the drinking age statute, it was one of those ones she filed under <em>doesn't matter if you don't get caught</em> and <em>worst you'll get is a fine, so fuck it.</em> Which was kind of redundant because the House of Black generally took the view that <em>laws are for other people</em> anyway. (That was one of the few things she actually liked about the Family, and would probably keep doing despite having semi-exiled herself over the summer.)</p><p>"<em>Bellatrix</em> isn't your mother," James said, sounding...unwontedly angry about...something?</p><p>"No, but I doubt anyone would question her if—" She was <em>going</em> to say, <em>if Bella claimed she was acting </em>in loco parentis, but Jamie cut her off.</p><p>"How do you think Mum would feel, hearing you say some shite like that?"</p><p>Er... What? "What does Dorea have to do with anything?"</p><p>"<em>Bellatrix</em> isn't the witch who took you in when you ran away from your family, she's the witch you ran away <em>from!</em> And you <em>know</em> Mum doesn't want you hanging around with her! She's a bad influence — the <em>worst</em> influence! You were only with her for a couple of hours, and she already has you questioning if we should be fighting them — if the Light should be leading Britain <em>at all?!"</em></p><p>"Bloody <em>hell</em>, take a fucking chill pill, Jamie! I know she's <em>evil</em>, I know she and de Mort are trying to undermine the very fabric of society as we know it, or well, I'm pretty sure that's kind of just a consequence of refusing to go along with it — the status quo, I mean — but she's still my cousin. I'm still allowed to spend an afternoon with her if I want to — not that I really had much of a choice, she just kind of apparated us away with no warning."</p><p>"Don't give me that <em>I was kidnapped</em> dragonshite, Sirius! You didn't have to <em>stay</em>, you could have <em>left</em>. But no, you decided to let them talk you around, let them start working on convincing <em>Lily</em> that they're not really so bad, they care so much about the poor, oppressed dark creatures, see, so that makes it okay they just <em>murder muggleborns</em>, and she's <em>not</em> your cousin, <em>you ran away!"</em></p><p>"She <em>is</em> my cousin, James. Yule was almost a whole year ago, that's fucking <em>forever</em>, and there were extenuating circumstances, and I <em>broke the Family Magic</em> this summer — if anything, <em>she</em> should be refusing to speak to <em>me</em>! And you're being all sarcastic, but the non-human <em>beings</em> — <em>not</em> creatures! — really <em>are</em> poor and oppressed, you have <em>no idea</em>, and <em>Evans</em>— Oh, <em>Evans</em> doesn't fucking <em>need</em> convincing! She's been on board with the Dark talking points since we were <em>twelve</em>!"</p><p>"You take that back!"</p><p>"<em>No</em>, it's <em>true</em>! And don't you <em>dare</em> say you don't believe me—"</p><p>Jamie shoved her into Remus, apparently out of actual arguments, which was a shame, because Aster <em>really</em> wanted to be convinced that the Light had all the answers. She really<em>, really</em> did. She shoved him back. He, <em>somehow</em>, managed to lose his balance — maybe he just wasn't expecting it? — and proceeded to fall off the bench, grabbing her <em>possibly</em> in an effort to save himself, but she was much smaller than he was now, and Remus, not realising what was happening, elbowed her in the kidney trying to get her off of <em>him</em>, so she managed to fall off the bench on top of James.</p><p>Who apparently thought this was intentional, flipping them over to fucking <em>sit</em> on her, and continue his absurd objection to her <em>completely accurate</em> portrayal of Evans as a bloody Dark witch!</p><p>Obviously she wasn't going to just lie there and take it.</p><p>Jamie might be bigger than her now — which, he had been before she'd become a girl too, but by a much smaller margin — but he still didn't know the first thing about using his size and weight to his advantage. She often found it just <em>stunning</em> how incompetent everyone else was at fighting. Even knowing that none of them had been properly trained, they were just so <em>slow</em>, and so <em>completely oblivious</em> — Aster wasn't even that <em>good!</em> Or at least, <em>she</em> didn't think she was. Narcissa beat her three times out of four the last time they sparred, and she'd <em>never</em> beaten Cassie. But compared to everyone else in her own year, she was practically <em>Bella</em>.</p><p>She bucked her hips to throw him off-balance, grabbed his shoulders when he leaned forward, pulled and <em>twisted</em>, dragging him down and flipping them <em>back</em> over in one smooth movement.</p><p>Which was right around the time a familiar, authoritative voice called from behind her, "Mister Potter! Mist– Miss Black! What in Merlin's name are you <em>doing</em>?! Get up! Get up <em>right now</em>!"</p><p>Aster didn't get up, though she did roll off Jamie (who scrambled to his feet at once, going <em>very</em> red in the face) and pull herself into a cross-legged seat, grinning up at her Head of House — because, well, if she was going to Ruin Minnie's Chill, she might as well have fun with it. "Minnie! Greetings and salutations! How are you this fine evening?"</p><p>"I said get <em>up</em>, Mist– Miss Black!"</p><p>"Hey, Remus, is there a rule against sitting on the floor?"</p><p>"Er...no?" Moony admitted, earning himself a thin-lipped glare. "There is a rule against ignoring our Head of House, though," he added quickly. "Insubordination. It's grounds for detention."</p><p>"Really? Huh. You'd think I'd've gotten one before now if that's actually a thing."</p><p>"You are disrupting the Feast with your unbecoming tomfoolery! Get up, sit back on your bench, and <em>behave</em>, or you'll be serving detention every night for the next week!"</p><p>"An entire week of evenings spent in your gracious company? Well now I <em>can't</em> get up!"</p><p>"With Professor <em>Slughorn</em>!"</p><p>Oh. Ew. No. Slughorn was kind of... Well, he never did anything <em>inappropriate</em>, but there was just something kind of inherently skeezy, she thought, trying to cultivate influence with bloody <em>schoolchildren</em>. He always tried to talk to her about the Blacks, inviting her to parties full of people she fucking <em>hated</em>, and it wasn't <em>nearly</em> as much fun taking the piss with him as it was with Minnie. She popped back to her feet and plopped onto the bench, giving her Head of House an overly-exaggerated pout. "Yes, Your Honor. I can be good, Your Honor." She tried to stop herself, but she was kind of drunk, and it was too funny not to add, "I can be very, <em>very</em> good, Your Honor."</p><p><em>"Sirius</em>!" Jamie hissed, sounding absolutely <em>appalled</em>, as though she hadn't said something like that to Minnie about once every other week since they were second-years.</p><p>Minnie went even redder than Jamie. She, like Walters, seemed to find Aster's flirting to be more discomfiting than Sirius's, which was both inexplicable and hilarious, especially since she'd kind of gotten used to <em>Sirius's</em> over-the-top flirting. "Out!"</p><p>"...What?"</p><p>"I am <em>not</em> going to deal with your- your positively <em>disgraceful</em> behaviour this evening, Mist- Miss Black. Get. Out."</p><p>"But...I just got Jamie to pass the potatoes."</p><p><em>"Now!</em>"</p><p>"Oh, come on, Professor," Jamie said, sounding just as shocked as Aster felt. "You can't—"</p><p>"Oh <em>can't</em> I? You are also excused, Mister Potter! Remove yourselves from this Hall <em>at once</em>!"</p><p>"The hell...?" Seriously, <em>what the hell?</em> Yeah, Aster did go out of her way now and again to get a rise out of their Head of House, but she <em>never</em> got one like <em>this</em>, not over a single suggestive comment.</p><p>"I will <em>not</em> have you interrupting what <em>should</em> be a solemn occasion with your <em>juvenile antics</em>!"</p><p>For once in her life, Aster was actually speechless. McG wasn't <em>wrong</em>, per se. Samhain <em>was</em> supposed to be kind of a solemn thing. But this was <em>Hogwarts</em>. They weren't here to celebrate <em>Samhain</em>, they were celebrating <em>Hallowe'en</em>, which was all sugar and silliness and embracing the fun in life in spite of the reality of death — <em>Carpe Diem</em>, the Holiday. She and Jamie might've been the most <em>noticeable</em> disturbance, falling off their bench as they had, but they were hardly the loudest or least reverent people around. No one else was even paying them any attention. She could see a couple of first-years getting into a slap-fight from here (one of them had whipped cream smeared on his nose, presumably that had something to do with it) <em>and</em> a bunch of Hufflepuffs who'd apparently decided to celebrate the muggle way, dressed up as though they were going to a masque. "Are you okay, Minnie? I mean..."</p><p>"Be reasonable, Professor! It's just Sirius! You know how ...<em>she</em> is."</p><p>"Detention, both of you, tomorrow evening! If you aren't halfway to the doorway in ten seconds, it will be a week!"</p><p>"Fine, fine, whatever." Aster pushed herself away from the table again, snagging her recently-filled plate as she did — the Hogwarts elves made the <em>best</em> mashed potatoes, it would be a travesty to let them go to waste. Besides, she really was quite hungry. For spending the better part of the day in a restaurant they'd hardly eaten anything.</p><p>McGonagall glared at her. <em>"Leave</em> the potatoes!"</p><p>"I'm afraid I can't. These potatoes are my Peak Cavern. <em>I shall not yield!"</em> A hint of confusion seeped into Minerva's glare. Apparently she wasn't familiar with the primary battleground of the Second Goblin Rebellion (which was actually the Tenth Goblin <em>War</em>, they hadn't really been considered <em>conquered</em> until the Eighth). Clan Quicksilver had made their final stand in a cave system in the Midlands, holed up there for <em>months</em> before they were finally rooted out with great effort and loss of life on both sides. Hardly her fault, really, Binns taught the third and fourth-year history classes (including the Goblin Wars) and he was <em>incredibly</em> <em>boring</em>. Granted, Minnie had probably had him <em>before</em> he'd died, but Aster doubted he'd been any more interesting then. Well, either that or her Gobbledygook just wasn't that good. Honestly, she had no idea whether the McGonagalls taught their kids the language of their ancestral enemies. (Not that the Blacks weren't historically enemies with practically <em>everyone</em> at one point or another, but not the point.) In any case, Aster swept past her (still carrying the plate) before McG could come up with a response. "Come on, Jamie, we're obviously not wanted here. Boys," she added, nodding vaguely toward Remus and Pete in farewell.</p><p>It took James about half a second to catch up with her, heading for the door. She was pretty sure she heard him tendering some vaguely apologetic phrases behind her. "What the hell was <em>that</em> about?"</p><p>"Dunno," Aster muttered, stealing an unused fork from the end of the Hufflepuff table on her way past. "I mean, she's not <em>always</em> that tightly wound at Samhain and I never noticed, is she?"</p><p>"What? No, I meant <em>you</em>— Propositioning McGee and then turning around and yelling at her in bloody <em>Goblin</em> ten seconds later? What the hell is wrong with you?"</p><p>"What the hell is wrong with <em>me</em>? What the hell is wrong with <em>you?</em> You have <em>met</em> me, haven't you? Neither propositioning Minnie — not that that <em>was</em> a proposition, it was <em>barely</em> an <em>implication</em> — nor dramatically quoting famous last words in defense of potatoes is exactly unusual behaviour, honestly!"</p><p>"No, you're being weirder than usual today."</p><p>"Don't think I am," she mumbled, refraining from making a positively sexual noise of mashed potato appreciation, because that <em>would</em> be weird.</p><p>"You spent the entire afternoon <em>talking to Bellatrix</em>, Sirius! You invited her, <em>and de Mort</em>, to come to the school!" Jamie stopped dead, apparently unwilling to walk and talk (and eat, though he hadn't thought to grab a plate himself, silly boy).</p><p>Whatever. Aster hopped up onto the nearest window-ledge as a makeshift bench. "Um, no, Evans did that."</p><p><em>"Don't</em> try to blame this on her!"</p><p>"What <em>blame</em>? If there's any <em>blame</em>, it's on Bella for fucking kidnapping us!" Or possibly de Mort for being charming enough to make Evans <em>overlook</em> the fact that he was a murderous, rapist bastard.</p><p>"We have to tell someone," James said, <em>very seriously</em>, in his <em>very serious Lord Potter</em> voice.</p><p>"...Why?"</p><p>"Because the bloody <em>Dark Lord</em> is planning on just <em>dropping by</em> our bloody <em>school</em> in a couple of hours, maybe?!"</p><p>Aster sighed. "You <em>do</em> know no one <em>knows</em> de Mort is the Dark Lord, right? Like, no one official, I mean. There's no <em>proof</em>. <em>Most</em> people think the worst thing he's done was seduce Bella when she was, like, eight. Or possibly weaseling his way into Society despite lacking money <em>or</em> a title, or even a bloody <em>name</em>. Kind of a toss-up, really." Because Society and people who gave a shite about it were mostly wankers, and eight-year-old Bella had probably been an unholy terror.</p><p>"Dumbledore knows, I'm sure he'd believe us, and he deserves <em>some</em> warning — what if..."</p><p>"What if what? Seriously, what's your worst-case scenario, here? Because mine is Bella and de Mort hang out in the Woods with all the Traditionalists for a few hours being inappropriately old party crashers, maybe de Mort convinces the organisers to let him participate at the last minute, Evans does whatever <em>something special</em> she has planned for Persephone, you realise you've been obsessing over a god-touched ritualist who's really <em>nothing</em> like you think she is—" Jamie tried to interrupt, but Aster refused to let him get a word in. "—we Dance, get all up close and personal with Death, with an option on more high magic nerdery post-ritual, depending on how wiped out Evans is after whatever she's planning. Or, you know, Dumbledore comes down, picks a fight with the two of them or tries to shut down the ritual or something, and everything goes to hell, and if Bella <em>doesn't</em> kill him he'll probably choke to death on a lemon drop or something because he inadvertently insulted Death Itself, ruining her party."</p><p>Jamie's eyes narrowed. "There's no such thing as <em>Death Itself</em>, Sirius! And I know you think she's the world's biggest fucking badass, but there's no way in hell Bellatrix could kill Dumbledore. He defeated <em>Grindelwald!"</em></p><p>"Yeah, like three decades ago. When was the last time he threw an offensive spell at anyone?" Aster honestly didn't know the last time Dumbledore had been in a fight. He might be obscenely powerful, but he wasn't a battlemage or even a duelist. Maybe he practised with Flitwick or something? But she kind of doubted it. Bella, on the other hand, was fucking terrifying, and spent approximately all of her time practising killing people. Aster had seen her beat the shite out of Greyback <em>unarmed</em> and take on entire cohorts of recruits — two or three dozen mages trained to Hit Wizard standards — at once. The last time she'd seen Bella and de Mort give an exhibition, Bella had been put under the Cruciatus <em>twice</em> and <em>still</em> won, after an hour and a half —most fights didn't last more than a couple of <em>minutes</em>. She'd been throwing around fucking <em>lightning</em> and Aster was <em>pretty sure</em> she'd seen her deflect a fucking <em>Killing Curse</em>, which <em>wasn't supposed to be possible</em>. And that was three years ago, she was probably better by now. "And aren't the Potters related to the Peverells, somehow?" Really, if anyone should believe in <em>Death</em>... "Oh, hey, you should bring the Cloak down and see if Death recognises it!"</p><p>James rolled his eyes. He thought the whole artefacts of the Powers <em>thing</em> was just as ridiculous as everything else to do with them. While Aster would admit that it <em>would</em> be ridiculous if they'd been using a Deathly bloody <em>Hallow</em> to sneak around the castle last year, she'd actually <em>seen</em> invisibility cloaks before. <em>Normal </em>ones. She, Reggie, and Narcissa had had one when they were kids. An old one, obviously, the enchantments were failing, made it more like a <em>disillusionment</em> cloak, and if you held it up to the light while you were wearing it you could see the demiguise hairs — translucent, but definitely <em>visible</em>. Jamie's cloak wasn't like that <em>at all</em>. Aster had never seen anything like it. And Charlus claimed he had gotten it from old George when <em>he</em> was a young man. It had to have been around for at <em>least</em> fifty years by now, still worked <em>perfectly</em>, when a <em>normal</em> invisibility cloak started to wear out after ten or so. <em>And</em> the Potters really <em>were</em> related to the Peverells, they had inherited a bunch of positively <em>ancient</em> books on soul magic from them. Really, if it was actually <em>the</em> Invisibility Cloak, the one all other cloaks of invisibility were created to emulate, that would explain <em>a lot</em>.</p><p>"Don't try to change the subject, Sirius! We have to tell <em>someone</em>!"</p><p>"But, why, though?" Aster groaned. "Why can't we just eat our potatoes and go back up to the Tower and pretend we don't know anything out of the ordinary is likely to happen, because it's not. Or at least not anything <em>dangerous</em>. They don't torture and kill people <em>all</em> the time — <em>most</em> of the time they're just massive <em>nerds</em> — and they're not going to think it's a good idea to interrupt the ritual any more than I do, okay?"</p><p>Jamie was giving her the <em>look</em> again. The one that said <em>who the hell even </em>are <em>you?</em> "No! Not okay! How can you possibly think— We— <em>I'm</em> telling Dumbledore! You can go do whatever the fuck you want, but you'd better not try to stop me—"</p><p>"Don't be thick, James. If you want to tell him, I'm not going to stop you, I just think it's completely pointless and maybe is going to make the whole situation worse." She slid back to the floor, regretting the fact that it was so <em>very</em> inappropriate for humans to lick plates clean when it was perfectly acceptable for dogs. Ah, well. Now...would the elves be more annoyed if she just left the plate <em>here</em>, or if she vanished it? Probably the latter. She set it in her recently vacated spot before giving Jamie a bright grin. "So, what's the plan? I mean, we <em>did</em> just get kicked out by the harridan sitting about two feet to Dumbles's left, so..."</p><p>If anything, the <em>look</em> intensified. "So you think this is the wrong thing to do, and you're going to do it <em>anyway?!"</em></p><p>She was almost <em>certain</em> that was a trick question of some sort, because with that disapproving tone, how could it not be? "...Yes?"</p><p>"No!"</p><p><em>Called it</em>. Aster made an entirely involuntary noise of frustration. "So, you think it's the right thing to tell him and we <em>have</em> to tell him, but you don't want me to tell him?! There's just no fucking winning with you!"</p><p>"I don't <em>want</em> you to do things you think are <em>wrong</em> just because <em>I</em> think they're the right thing to do! I want <em>you </em>to want to do the right thing!"</p><p>Well, that was just the stupidest fucking thing Jamie had ever said. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of pants at <em>morals</em>, Jamie. If I'm not supposed to take your word for it, then I have <em>no idea</em> what's right or wrong! I want to do what you want me to do — as far as I'm concerned, that <em>is</em> the right thing!" Though that probably <em>was</em> a wrong thing to say, because the <em>look</em> was starting to skew toward <em>shaken</em> and <em>distinctly uncomfortable.</em> <em>Stupid, stupid Aster! You weren't supposed to tell him you're following his lead!</em> But she was just <em>so frustrated</em>, she couldn't seem to stop talking. "I didn't say telling Dumbledore is <em>wrong</em>, I said it's <em>useless</em> and <em>possibly counterproductive</em>. <em>You</em> were the one who just equated pointless with <em>wrong</em>, which is kind of absurd now that I'm thinking about it, because about seventy-five per cent of all the shite people do because <em>it's the right thing to do</em> is actually useless or counterproductive, it's just about sending a fucking message or something, like joining the Aurors even though we're <em>definitely going to lose</em>!"</p><p>"Well then, maybe you shouldn't do that, either!" <em>What?!</em> But they'd been talking about joining the Aurors since the end of second year! "You can't just do shite because— Doing things because other people say they're the right thing is <em>wrong</em>, okay? Just doing whatever I want you to do, or whatever you <em>think</em> I want you to do, is wrong and, don't take this the wrong way or anything, but kind of deeply, <em>deeply</em> disturbing!" He sounded almost <em>scared</em> of her.</p><p><em>Is there a </em>right <em>way to take that?</em> a distant, shocked corner of Aster's mind thought. The rest of her was a bit preoccupied with the entire world listing dangerously off-kilter. So, it was wrong to just take Jamie's word for what was right and wrong? But then, should she take his word for <em>that?</em> She kind of thought she had to because, well, wrong or not, she <em>knew</em> he knew these things on an instinctive level she just <em>didn't</em>, but what the hell do you do when the person you're supposed to trust says <em>don't trust me</em>?! (Popping into Padfoot's form and hiding from the problem probably wasn't it, no matter how appealing it sounded.) She bit the inside of her lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to ignore the tears of frustration prickling at her eyes and furious self-loathing rising up in her chest — she shouldn't have said that, she shouldn't have <em>told him</em>, this wouldn't be happening if she'd just <em>kept her fucking mouth shut!</em></p><p>Jamie was still talking, though she was having trouble making out the words through the overwhelming disorientation of Jamie essentially telling her that the only thing she <em>knew</em> was right was actually wrong, and— What was that phrase Gudgeon had, when there was no logic or reason to anything? <em>Does not compute</em>, that was it. <em>"I'm</em> going to tell Dumbledore. You just...stay here, or go back to the Tower, or <em>whatever</em>, I don't care!"</p><p>"But, <em>Jamie</em>—" she began, following him as he stalked back toward the Great Hall.</p><p><em>"Don't</em> follow me, Sirius!" he rounded on her, just for a second, before continuing to walk away.</p><p><em>But then what am I supposed to </em>do<em>?!</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Asphodel shamelessly takes advantage of Aster's fragile emotional state (I)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>But then what am I supposed to </em>do<em>?!</em></p>
<hr/>
<p>She had no idea. What she did do was just stand there, frozen indecisively, watching him walk away, shaking his head, all tense and angry, leaving her behind, her entire world collapsing as its foundations crumbled.</p>
<p>It was worse, the tiny, distant part of her thought, than when she'd screwed Evans, because that was a thing she had done, a mistake. This... This was Jamie rejecting her. Not just punishing her for doing something wrong, but telling her in so many words that she was wrong. That her trying to be what Jamie wanted her to be was actually the opposite of what he wanted from her. But by that logic, he shouldn't want her to not try to be what he wanted, because that would be trying to be what he wanted, and that made her head hurt and she felt physically ill, watching him walk away — and worse, he—</p>
<p>He found her <em>deeply, deeply disturbing</em>.</p>
<p><em>Don't cry, Aster! Do </em>not <em>start snivelling like a little bitch! I said </em>no<em>!</em></p>
<p>It didn't matter, she couldn't help it, she didn't know what to do, it felt like getting stabbed in the heart, cut to the quick by his fear and disgust and— And popping into Padfoot's form and running away from the emotional turmoil seemed like a really good idea, actually. Even before the thought was fully formed, she'd done it.</p>
<p>It didn't really hurt less, being rejected as a dog. Knowing that she was a bad dog, that her Jamie didn't want her. It was much clearer, though, what was to be done about the situation. He'd told her not to follow him, to go to her room, so she would do that. She would find a dark, quiet place and curl up and lick her wounds — under the bed would be good — and wait for him to forgive her, or until the pain faded enough to try again, to beg him to understand...</p>
<p>She had to turn back into a human to give the Fat Lady the password — grindylow, this year's theme was magical creatures, apparently — but the Common Room was deserted with everyone at the Feast, so she popped back as soon as she'd clambered through the doorway. Not that she could really bring herself to care at the moment whether anyone found out about her illegally becoming an animagus. She still had a few more weeks before she came of age and was supposed to register anyway, and even if she hadn't getting sentenced to a few months in Azkaban couldn't possibly be worse than James...completely rejecting her. Trying to drive her away. For...he probably had a reason, but she couldn't imagine why.</p>
<p>She really wasn't expecting Evans to be in their room when she nosed the door-flap open. It sealed behind her, of course, locking out the rest of the world. If she wanted to get out she'd have to become human again, because it only opened in. And Evans was sitting on the bed, so that ruled out hiding there. Bugger.</p>
<p>"Aster?" Padfoot didn't answer, slinking over to her desk and nudging the chair aside enough to curl up in the foot cubby. "Aster, I know that's you, no one else can get in here, regardless of whether they're a dog. Why are you a dog?" Padfoot still didn't answer, wishing she'd shut up and leave her alone, but not enough to become human again just to say so. What was she even doing up here? She'd definitely gone down to the feast with Aster. She'd kind of been ignoring her because she was annoyed, but she'd thought Evans was off making boring small talk with the other girls or something. "Bark once if you need me to transfigure you back or something." When Padfoot didn't, she went back to her book...for about thirty seconds. "Why are you hiding under your desk? Was Potter being an arse?"</p>
<p>She resumed her human form long enough to snap, "Shut up, Evans," before popping back immediately. That earned her another thirty seconds of silence — tense, uncomfortable silence, because she knew it couldn't last.</p>
<p>"You know, you being a dog animagus kind of explains a lot." There was a soft pressure at the very edges of her mind. As a human she might not have noticed at all, but dogs weren't really complex thinkers, habitual occlumency was kind of impossible to maintain as Padfoot. A growl trickled out of her throat. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you may be overreacting."</p>
<p>Well, how the hell was she supposed to react to being fucking legilimised?!</p>
<p>"Not to me — though I had no idea talking to animals was mind magic until literally today — but whatever Potter did."</p>
<p>No, she definitely, definitely wasn't. She'd fucked up, she knew she had, and she didn't think she'd be able to fix it, and she wished Evans would just leave her alone because she couldn't pretend she wasn't dying at the moment, and she was so painfully alone, and she couldn't deal with Evans being all reasonable and cold and Evans-ish on top of being fucking exiled—</p>
<p><em>Just go away</em>, she thought, willing the bitch to get it, to realise that she was miserable, and didn't — <em>couldn't</em> — deal with her at the moment, flooding the space around herself with agony and angst.</p>
<p>Evans gasped as though she'd just been punched in the gut. "Fuck, do you feel shite like that all the time? Fine, I won't talk. Just, stop hiding under the desk being miserable. Come here."</p>
<p><em>What?</em> She whined. She didn't understand.</p>
<p>"Come on," Evans said, patting the bed beside herself.</p>
<p>
  <em>Seriously, what?</em>
</p>
<p>"I know I'm not him, but I know you," she said, all coaxing and patronising.</p>
<p><em>No</em>.</p>
<p>"You don't want to be lying all alone down there on the cold, hard stone, you're only doing that to punish yourself. And you don't deserve it."</p>
<p>No, she did. She really, really did. This was all her fault, and—</p>
<p>"Aster! Come!" Evans snapped, as though she were an actual dog, which on the one hand was even more patronising, but on the other hand it was really, really tempting to just do as she was told.</p>
<p><em>She</em> certainly didn't know what she should be doing.</p>
<p><em>Fine</em>. She crawled out of the foot space and onto the bed beside Evans.</p>
<p>"Good girl. Can I pet you?"</p>
<p><em>Would you?</em> She leaned into the girl's side. Evans propped her book up on one knee so she could let one hand skim softly over Padfoot's head and ears. She felt herself relax involuntarily, focusing on the physical contact rather than the complete trainwreck that was her life.</p>
<p>No one ever...</p>
<p>Weird as it was to realise, no one ever really touched her. Not like that. Sure, there were plenty of people she could drag off into a store-room or something for a quick fuck, but that was about fun, not...comfort. Honestly, she could probably count on one hand the number of people who had ever been...gentle to her. (The House of Black wasn't exactly renowned for its careful, empathic approach to childrearing.)</p>
<p>De Mort, tucking her into bed a couple of weeks ago (unless she'd <em>completely hallucinated</em> that, which might make more sense).</p>
<p>Bella that one time when she'd saved Aster's life, back when she was seven. She'd let Aster fall asleep on her lap afterward, completely exhausted and burnt out.</p>
<p>Dorea, when Aster had shown up on her doorstep shaking from the Cruciatus for the second time in six months, had just held her until the tremors stopped.</p>
<p>She would say all of the Potters, there had been lots of hugging in the midst of the debacle with Snape, but that hadn't exactly been... It had been an imposition, forcing their pity on her, or at least that was what it had felt like at the time — a soft sort of torture she couldn't object to without hurting them.</p>
<p>Marley had kind of been big on snuggling, but Aster really wasn't, generally speaking. That was actually one of the things Aster had really disliked about their relationship, the way she was physically clingy on top of wanting to spend all of their free time together.</p>
<p>She did casually touch other people kind of a lot — mostly the Marauders — but they weren't really very physical themselves, mostly just shrugged her off or called her a girl for draping herself all over them (or both). If it weren't for the fact that she'd done that forever she'd say it was an effect of becoming an animagus, because it definitely hadn't escaped her attention that the wilderfolk she'd met over the summer were much more her sort of people, communicating with touch more than words, even when they were human-shaped. And even they didn't tend to touch her just to be nice, make her feel better about her entire life being shite.</p>
<p>After a while — probably not as long as it felt, time was weird as a dog — Aster decided she was (probably) calm enough to shift back without turning into a weepy mess. She was still using Evans's stomach as a pillow, fully expected to be shoved off, but Evans, engrossed in her book, hardly seemed to notice, just kept playing with Aster's hair. Which was...fine? Weird, but not bad. (And Aster really, <em>really</em> had no room to judge anyone else being weird.)</p>
<p>"What're you reading?" she mumbled, trying to act as though this was any other day, and she wasn't barely holding herself together at the moment, practically lying in the lap of a girl she would have said she hated two weeks ago.</p>
<p>"<em>Meditations on the Void</em>." Huh. Aster wondered where she'd gotten that. It wasn't restricted, really, just kind of rare, a collection of essays about the nature of Magic from before the whole system of the Powers was really codified. Not the sort of thing the Hogwarts library kept out on the shelves, for sure. "Anomos recommended it. It's sort of...trippy."</p>
<p>Oh, so she wasn't very far into it, then. They were mostly in chronological order, and some of those earlier philosophers were kind of weird. "Not all of it. Anaximenes might sound like he's three kinds of high, but after you get to Xenophanes they start to make a lot more sense." Evans's fingers paused. "What?"</p>
<p>A tiny huff of almost-laughter escaped her. Aster, with her head still lying on the other girl, more felt it than heard it. "Nothing, just. Whenever I think I've got you all figured out, you continue to surprise me, Asteria Black."</p>
<p>"Just because I'd rather get fucked up myself than read fucked up philosophy doesn't mean I didn't have a proper, Classical education. Why aren't you down at the Feast with everyone else?"</p>
<p>"Oh. Well, I think the Feast is probably over by now. It's almost nine. But...I don't know. I don't like Hallowe'en as much as I used to anymore. Or, well, I like it differently. The whole Feast thing seems kind of...gauche. And fake. And cowardly, kind of. Like, let's all pretend there's no such thing as Death, just distract ourselves with candy and silly costumes and pranks, even with the chill of the Void seeping across the Veil. Willing self-delusion. Just...kind of rubs me the wrong way."</p>
<p>"<em>Mmm</em>." <em>Yes, good, think about Death, not </em>him... "They can't feel it, you know. The Veil growing thin. Or, well, they do feel it, but they don't understand it. You know that instinct to grab onto life when you get too close to death?"</p>
<p>"Er...no?"</p>
<p>Of course she didn't. "Well, normal people — non-necromancer people — tend to be kind of afraid of Death."</p>
<p>"You don't say?" Amused sarcasm.</p>
<p>Aster glared at her. "Shut up, my point is they're not deluding themselves, Samhain just makes them remember that life is short and they should live it to its fullest. Honestly, before I came here I'd never heard of Hallowe'en, but I really like it."</p>
<p>Mostly because before she came to school, she also didn't realise how...scared normal people — outsiders — were, all the time. Scared of having fun and seizing the moment, living like they might die tomorrow, because <em>oh no, there might be consequences!</em> The House of Black was widely regarded as having no sense of self-preservation whatsoever because they (or the most notorious of them, at least) lived like they might die tomorrow all the time. (She'd thought it was an exaggeration, at first, that reputation, but... Honestly, she didn't know how normal people could live like that!) Having one day where normal, serious people all embraced the fun and silliness of life seemed a lot more appropriate for them in some ways than sitting around and being <em>even more serious than usual</em>, contemplating the end of a life they never truly appreciated.</p>
<p>"Yeah? Then how come you weren't at the Feast?"</p>
<p>"Oh, well, because you ruin everything. Even when you're not there."</p>
<p>Evans snorted, fingers working deeper, kneading into the muscles where Aster's head met her neck, prompting an entirely involuntary, almost sexual moan. That felt <em>nice</em>. "Are you sure you don't mean especially when I'm not there? Because this doesn't exactly scream ruining everything to me."</p>
<p>"Oh, shut up, Evans. Jamie asked where we were all day, so it came up that we'd been with Bella and de Mort, and then we got into an argument about if Dumbledore would watch us all die before he admits he can't beat them, and if Bella's still my cousin, and Jamie blamed me for letting her and de Mort start trying to talk you around to their side and I said that was complete dragonshite because of course Bella's still my cousin, and I've been telling him you're with the Dark since we were twelve, but he's completely irrational about you, so we got in a fight about that, and Minnie kicked us out of the Feast, and then he said we had to tell Dumbles that de Mort's planning on crashing Persephone's party, and I said that seemed completely pointless, but fine whatever, and he said I shouldn't do something I thought was wrong just because he thinks it's right, which doesn't even make any sense, and I tried explaining why, and—" She cut herself off, sniffling. She didn't want to think about the look on his face when he'd called her disturbing, when he'd said don't follow me. "I blame you," she said instead, burrowing her face into Evans's side.</p>
<p>She sighed, obviously at a loss for words, which was funny because she'd had plenty to say earlier, when she'd been ranting about how Jamie treated Aster like shite in the stairwell.</p>
<p>"The phrase you're looking for is <em>I told you so</em>," she muttered.</p>
<p>"Er...what was that?"</p>
<p>"You were right," Aster snapped, pulling back to glare at her (and instantly regretting it, because Evans could no longer reach her head).</p>
<p>"I'm right a lot. Which particular instance are we talking about, here?"</p>
<p>"Jamie doesn't want me to follow him." Of course, when he'd actually said it he'd meant literally, but that was what it <em>meant</em>, wasn't it, when he told her it was wrong to just do what he thought was right?</p>
<p>Evans winced. "Oh. I'm... I'm sorry, Aster."</p>
<p>Aster let herself flop face-first into the mattress before muttering, "It's not really your fault."</p>
<p>"You're talking into a solid object again," Evans pointed out, though she also started playing with Aster's hair again, so she didn't mind as much as she might've done.</p>
<p>She still gave the redhead a furious glare, careful not to pull too far away. "I don't want your apology!"</p>
<p>Evans gave her an exasperated sigh. "I wasn't apologising, it's not my fault you're completely lost and Potter's a weak fucking twat who can't handle just living his life and letting you copy his answers to, you know, morality. Just offering my condolences. If you want to talk about it, we can, but—" She imitated her earlier wince. "<em>I'm sorry, Aster</em> is about the extent of my ability to pretend to care at the moment. Fair warning."</p>
<p>Aster should probably be more upset that Evans was flat admitting she didn't actually care about Aster's suffering, but she kind of appreciated the honesty. "I know you're a heartless bitch, remember? I never believe you when you act like you care. And I know there's no pretense in Death. Even if I wanted pretty lies from you, I wouldn't expect you to be able to pull it off tonight."</p>
<p>Evans gave her an oddly soft, absent smile. "And I love you for that. I really do. Almost makes me regret all those years we spent being enemies instead of friends. But speaking of, we should get ready to head down to the Woods."</p>
<p>"I don't even know if I want to go anymore," Aster groaned. She didn't want to go out and almost certainly run into Jamie, after all the effort she'd gone to to make sure he would be there. She'd much rather just lie here — or in her own bed, despite the undead cat infestation — and feel sorry for herself and try to figure out what to do now, try to reconcile Jamie's impossible demand and the fact that she didn't know how she was supposed to...to do anything, really, without following his example. She knew he didn't want her following <em>Bella's</em> example — she'd been Aster's role model before coming to school — so—</p>
<p>"It really doesn't matter whether you want to, you're still going to," Evans said, rolling to her feet. "Come on, get up! If you don't hurry, we won't have time for a proper bath first."</p>
<p>Aster groaned again, flopping into the warm spot Evans had left behind her. Not only did she have to go, but Evans was going to insist on making a huge fucking production out of it?</p>
<p><em>Bugger</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well excuse me for being nice! Next time I catch you hiding under a desk being all miserable, I'll keep my bloody mouth shut! -A</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Inappropriately Old Party Crashers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trust Evans to want to do a purification ritual before the Revel — not that Aster could even blame her really, she <em>was</em> a participant, it was respectful to get cleaned up first, and these things tended to go more smoothly if you didn't bring any traces of extraneous magic into them.</p>
<p>Though that hadn't stopped her deciding that she was borrowing one of the more formal dress robes Bella had <em>insisted</em> Aster needed (she was <em>probably</em> planning on trying to drag Aster to the Festa Morgana this year or something), <em>because reasons</em>. Those reasons being it made Evans think of a phoenix, bluish-white at the top fading through yellow, orange and red to black at the bottom hem, skirts carefully layered and slit so that they flickered like fire when she moved, the over-robe a sheer golden-orange silk embroidered with translucent flames, loose sleeves slashed into trailing, fluttering ribbons from the shoulder. Along with the protective enchantments Bella had insisted be included on all of her clothes, it was also supposedly fireproof, <em>so you can make a </em>really <em>neat entrance, </em>obviously. (If she got to literally set Society on fire, Aster might actually be interested in <em>going</em> to the stupid party.)</p>
<p>It made <em>Aster</em> think of the fae, like most of Bella's wardrobe. Though Bella always looked like she belonged in the Court of the Moon, and this was <em>clearly</em> a Court of the Sun robe. Anyway, she was sure <em>she </em>would never have an occasion to wear it. If Evans wanted to look like a fae princess for her date with Persephone, more power to her. Aster, as a Witness, hadn't been planning on dressing up at all. Evans had declared this <em>highly disrespectful</em> and decided that she would be wearing a cast-off dress Bella had commissioned when she was Aster's age, black and silver and enchanted so the skirts wouldn't foul her movements if she just so happened to get into a duel in the middle of a formal ball. (Which maybe Aster shouldn't mock since the Festa Morgana Riot <em>had</em> eventually happened, but it was still kind of ridiculous.)</p>
<p>Aster was pretty sure Evans had just never had the <em>opportunity</em> to wear really nice clothes, let alone an occasion to do so. It had taken her all of ten minutes after Aster shoved her things into their newly-shared wardrobe to decide that this communal property idea of Aster's should clearly go both ways. Aster's entire wardrobe was currently at school because, well, where else did she have to keep her shite anymore? Which meant Evans had been faced with literally hundreds of galleons of fancy, delicate clothing, and even Lily Evans wasn't immune to the desire to dress up and look pretty (<em>because reasons</em>) now and again. She was noticeably bigger than Aster, a couple inches taller and her frame was generally sturdier, wider in the hips and shoulders, but most of Aster's new clothes had been cut loosely or designed to be adjusted when (if) Aster ever managed to stop looking like a bloody skeleton. And being taller just meant she couldn't wear the high-heeled shoes that were meant to go with them. (Which would also be too small for her, anyway.)</p>
<p>Which was <em>fine</em>, Aster certainly wasn't planning on wearing any of that fancy shite any time soon, and <em>obviously</em> the communal property thing went both ways, that was kind of the point. The whole having to get dressed up thing just put her in a bad mood (a <em>worse</em> mood) because it reminded her of <em>way</em> too many Family functions over the years. (Though she <em>could</em> focus on being in a bad mood about dressing up, so there was <em>that</em>, she guessed...)</p>
<p>And ritual purification baths always made her feel <em>naked</em>, in a way actually being nude didn't. Which, they were <em>supposed</em> to, obviously, but that didn't mean that she wasn't immediately itching to cast a couple of charms on herself. She wasn't really one for cosmetic glamours (she didn't <em>need</em> them, really), but drying and styling her hair with magic was almost second nature, and she'd been using a charm to sharpen her sight, or rather to help her filter out the blur of ambient magic all around her, for years, now. Her eyesight was perfectly <em>fine</em>, but it still felt like she couldn't <em>see</em> shite as well as she ought to be able to, with that thin fog obscuring everything that wasn't enchanted or actively bespelled.</p>
<p>Bella had told her when she started using the charm that she really didn't need it. In fact, if she practised, she could probably pick out the currents in the ambient magic around her, apparently it made learning runic casting and geomancy much easier. But Aster was pretty sure that was just one of those things no one had ever told Bella that humans weren't supposed to be able to do, because she'd never heard anyone else suggest it was even <em>possible</em>, and she <em>had</em> asked around after Bella mentioned it. Even de Mort hadn't known what she was talking about, though that might have been because his own magic tended to taint the ambient magic around himself for several meters in every direction, giving it an order it didn't naturally have. Bella was kind of weirdly still and contained by comparison. Actually, in comparison to <em>everyone</em>, as though she had trained her magic to the same weird, vampiric stillness as she had her body.</p>
<p>Aster had never really noticed that before, the contrast between the two of them. It was weird, because she would have guessed de Mort was the more self-controlled one by a <em>wide</em> margin. She <em>definitely</em> wouldn't have guessed that de Mort's power would be so...quiescent, not really <em>doing</em> anything or apparently actively trying to get into people's minds, or that Dumbledore's magic would seem so <em>agitated</em>, despite the cool facade he was attempting to maintain.</p>
<p>Evans, completely oblivious to the danger of approaching a furious sorcerer (even if he was outnumbered at the moment), practically floated across the clearing toward them, ignoring the perimeter all the other students had formed, watching the conflict develop from its edges. And of course she dragged Aster with her, much as she'd dragged her through the school — arms linked together as though they were off to promenade or some such nonsense, obviously enjoying the attention their overly-formal appearance attracted.</p>
<p>"Asteria, Asphodel, don't you two look lovely this evening."</p>
<p>De Mort and Bella looked good as well, but then they always kind of did. (Aster suspected that Bella dressed de Mort, because he also tended to wear shite that fell into the odd, fae, too-formal-and-also-too-casual category as her own clothes.) The flickering light of the bonfire and the fact that Aster hadn't toned down her perception of magic made them look even more striking and ethereal than usual, but the Lord and Lady of the Underground clearly hadn't gone out of their way to dress up as Evans had insisted <em>they</em> do. Dumbledore actually looked like he'd put more effort into his appearance at the moment, wearing the sort of formal robes she'd expect to see on him at a Wizengamot function, and positively glowing with amulets and cantrips, as though he <em>expected</em> this confrontation to devolve into a fight. Jamie, who was lurking in his shadow all fae-struck, like he'd never seen a girl clean herself up before, had obviously found some way to warn him after all, despite sitting about three feet away from the bitch who had just banned them from the Great Hall.</p>
<p>Great.</p>
<p>Just fucking great.</p>
<p>Ten galleons said Dumbles was going to be <em>furious</em> with her for inviting them, just like James (despite the fact that <em>she</em> hadn't actually done any inviting). Unlike James, however, Dumbledore could crush her like a particularly annoying insect if he so chose.</p>
<p><em>Don't be ridiculous, Asteria, we're not going to let the big bad light sorcerer hurt either of you,</em> de Mort thought at her, definite amusement tingeing his tone. <em>What kind of shite parents do you think we are?</em></p>
<p>The kind who <em>weren't actually parents</em>? "De Mort," <em>GET OUT OF MY HEAD!</em> "Bella." She hesitated, but if they were going to be all <em>traditional</em> tonight... "<em>Mors certa memento,</em>" she added, slightly grudgingly.</p>
<p>Bella grinned at her, offering the response <em>far</em> too gleefully to meet the tone of the holiday. "<em>Ita quoque vita, mea</em>."</p>
<p>Aster ignored her delight (<em>and</em> the possessive endearment). Yes, it had been <em>years</em> since she'd played along with such ritual greetings (usually <em>she </em>answered "<em>remember that death is a certainty</em>" with something along the lines of "<em>death can suck my dick</em>" or "<em>define certainty</em>") and longer since she'd instigated one, but that didn't mean she was coming around on the <em>fuck the House of Black and all of its traditions</em> front. "...Headmaster, Jamie. What brings you to the Woods this fine evening?" As though she didn't already know.</p>
<p>"Miss Black. Miss Evans," Dumbledore said, sounding <em>far</em> less approving of her greeting, or perhaps their presence. "I regret to inform you that the evening's entertainment has been cancelled."</p>
<p>Evans looked up at him, head cocked slightly to one side, her expression completely uncomprehending. "I don't think you have the authority to cancel 'the evening's entertainment,' Professor."</p>
<p>"I think you will find, Miss Evans, that I am well within my rights to disallow any practice or event I please within the grounds of Hogwarts. As I am within my rights to eject uninvited guests at my pleasure."</p>
<p>"But...it's the Revel. You can't cancel the Revel," she said, as though the very concept made as little sense as Jamie telling Aster not to listen to him.</p>
<p>"He also can't kick us out. The wards <em>might</em> be able to remove us from the actual <em>Castle</em>, but we came with no ill intent, we pose no threat to the students... You may be the Lord of Hogwarts, Albus darling, but her students are her children, and not so easily disowned as you clearly wish we were." Bella gave the Headmaster a sharp smile. "And we both know you don't want to try to remove me by force. I seem to remember someone telling me that <em>actions have consequences</em>, once upon a time."</p>
<p>"You are not welcome here, Bellatrix. And yes, Miss Evans, I can cancel the Revel, and have, in fact, done so. I suggest you return to your dormitory before—"</p>
<p>"<em>No</em>. I suggest <em>you</em> return to <em>your</em> rooms, because—"</p>
<p>"<em>Evans!"</em></p>
<p>"Bella was <em>invited</em>, Aster. He <em>wasn't</em>. And we <em>will</em> be celebrating the Deathly Power here tonight. There is no universe in which we don't — only ones wherein Death walks among us more <em>violently</em> than others." That tone of serene certainty sent shivers of ice down Aster's spine. It was...disturbing. Very much a <em>priestess of Death</em> sort of voice, rather than the faintly amused or generally annoyed attitude she expected from Evans. She <em>had</em> edged into sounding like that a few times over the course of the day, but she hadn't been actually <em>giving pronouncements of imminent death</em> while they'd been drinking and talking about exploring other universes.</p>
<p>She could feel de Mort's amusement on the air, which had to mean he was projecting it at her deliberately — <em>she</em> certainly wasn't a legilimens — but he didn't seem to have anything in particular to say about the fact that his daughter was being all <em>necromancer-ish</em>.</p>
<p>"Lily!" James gasped, as the Headmaster's power flared around him, clearly offended. "You can't just <em>threaten Dumbledore</em>! I'm sorry, sir, she's <em>clearly</em> not herself—"</p>
<p>Evans laughed sharply, cutting him off. "Go fuck yourself, Potter — gods and Powers, it feels <em>so</em> good to finally say that. <em>Go fuck yourself.</em> You don't know me. This is very much who I am, and I'm not <em>threatening</em> anyone. I'm simply stating a fact. Death does not adjust Her plans at the whims of petty mortal tyrants!" That was a bit <em>less</em> serene.</p>
<p><em>Well, she's not </em>wrong<em>,</em> the <em>other</em> mad ritualist in the room (...clearing, whatever) commented.</p>
<p>Both Jamie and Dumbledore seemed to be shocked into silence, giving Bella plenty of time to repeat, "Petty mortal tyrant?" cackling like a madwoman. "You're giving him too much credit, Princess. <em>Tyrants</em> have <em>power</em>."</p>
<p>"Even baby basilisks can bite, Bella," de Mort said, a positively <em>oppressive</em> calm falling over the lot of them as he sort of...leaned into the magic that was always <em>there</em> around him, even if it wasn't particularly <em>noticeable</em>. The subtle demonstration of power was all the more impressive because Aster could <em>see</em> Dumbledore trying to resist it, and getting absolutely <em>nowhere</em>. "Even so, Asphodel, tone it down. We both know the show will go on."</p>
<p>"I think this is the part where I say you're not my real father. Of <em>course</em> the show will go on, that's not the <em>point!"</em></p>
<p>De Mort went all blank-faced in surprise, Dumbledore went a greyish sort of pale, and James's incomprehension took on a terrified undertone. Bella grinned like a kid seeing Honeydukes for the first time, her eyes flitting from one of them to the next very much the same way Aster's were.</p>
<p>She smacked her idiot roommate over the shoulder. "What happened to not telling people that <em>de Mort's</em> your fucking sire, Evans?!"</p>
<p>Evans paused for a moment as though she hadn't realised exactly what she was implying, but then shrugged. "Oops? But we all make <em>fuck the world</em> choices now and again, don't we? And I find I can't bring myself to care about any consequence so brief as to be able to affect me within the span of a single human lifetime, tonight. It's very...<em>liberating</em>."</p>
<p>"Wh-What is <em>that</em> supposed to mean?" Jamie stuttered, clearly unnerved. Probably as much by de Mort's laughter as Evans's words.</p>
<p><em>It means necromancers get a bit nihilistic around Samhain, Jamie. And possibly also a bit drunk on magic.</em> She didn't say it, because she wasn't at all certain anything she said to Jamie wouldn't come out as <em>I'm sorry, I don't understand what I did wrong, just </em>tell <em>me and I'll fix it!</em></p>
<p>"It means, Potter, that you are <em>infinitely</em> unimportant in the grand scheme of things, not only to me but to the universe. As are we all. And I'm tired of dealing with your constant attempts to woo a girl who does not exist. And I'm tired of pretending to give a shite, being your good little poster girl for muggleborn success." <em>That</em> was directed toward the still-grey-faced Dumbledore, though she quickly turned back to Jamie to continue berating him. "I'm tired of listening to insipid platitudes and holding my tongue and smiling and nodding when people spout Light idiocy at me and expect me to go along with it because I'm muggleborn, and clearly that means I don't have a fucking brain, or eyes to see all the ways Britain is <em>completely</em>—"</p>
<p>Alright, apparently no one else was going to interrupt. Aster really thought someone should, though. "Ah, just kinda spitballing, here, but — crazy idea — maybe Samhain isn't the best time to have this conversation?" Or, you know, when she wasn't standing <em>right in front of Dumbledore</em>? Just maybe?! Though the Chief Warlock looked too shocked to respond properly. Or at all.</p>
<p><em>I thought you </em>wanted <em>dear little Jamie to realise that Asphodel is hardly the paragon of goodness and Light he believes her to be.</em></p>
<p><em>Well, </em>yes<em>, but I don't want her to ruin her entire </em>life<em>. Dumbledore </em>does <em>know you're the Dark Lord, doesn't he?</em></p>
<p><em>He doesn't, actually. He knows Tom Riddle grew up to become the Dark Lord, but I've gone to a great deal of trouble to disassociate myself from that name, and this isn't quite the face he remembers from my school days. He believes I'm Riddle's right hand, one of his first recruits...the Albus Dumbledore to his Gellert Grindelwald, one might say. But of course there's no proof of that </em>— <em>a good right hand cannot be officially linked to anything so unsavoury as Dark Lordship, obviously.</em></p>
<p>That was... Well, it did explain how de Mort and Bella could still show their faces in public, she guessed. She just didn't know how he'd managed to pull it off. Clearly mind magic was cheating.</p>
<p>Evans grinned at her. "What better time is there to burn your life to the ground and start from scratch?"</p>
<p>"Okay, I'll grant you that, but—"</p>
<p>"But me no buts, Aster. I know what I'm doing."</p>
<p>—<em>but</em> even if Dumbledore thought she was the <em>number two</em> Death Eater's kid, instead of the Dark Lord's, that still didn't seem like a great move. Especially not if she was simultaneously making it <em>very</em> clear that she wasn't willing to be turned to the Light instead of following her biological father into the non-existent 'real' Dark Lord's forces.</p>
<p><em>I think you underestimate Dumbledore's capacity for self-delusion. He was still trying to turn </em>Bella <em>away from my service when she left school.</em></p>
<p><em>But...</em>how<em>? Wait, no, </em>focus<em>, Aster! You were saying a thing! </em>"And I knew what I was doing when I fucked you. Doesn't mean there won't be consequences. And even if you don't care <em>now</em>, you will when you wake up tomorrow and remember you're mortal and the world is less infinite and everyone's watching you like you might turn around and start <em>avada</em>-ing people at any second."</p>
<p>"On the other hand, though, I'm probably less likely to turn around and start <em>avada</em>-ing people who don't expect me to be their perfect little golden girl. Openly claiming Thom as my biological father seems like an awfully good way to undercut any expectations in that direction, doesn't it?"</p>
<p>"Miss Evans, I..." Dumbledore trailed off, apparently still too shocked to articulate his comment.</p>
<p>"Maybe tone down the honesty, Evans, you're scaring the natives."</p>
<p>Evans gave her an odd, distant smile, much like the one she'd worn looking out on the ancient, broken circle out in the Forest. "But you said it yourself, there's no pretense in Death."</p>
<p>"What's wrong with her?" Jamie asked Aster, before turning bravely to de Mort. "Did— Did you <em>do </em>something to her?"</p>
<p>"Hardly. What on earth do you suspect I might have <em>done</em>?"</p>
<p>Jamie wasn't <em>quite</em> brave enough to suggest de Mort had turned Evans into some kind of puppet, though Aster wasn't certain whether it was de Mort's mild, knowing smirk or Evans's unnerving serenity he found more terrifying. Probably the latter.</p>
<p>"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Aster snapped, abruptly losing patience for this whole exercise. She didn't have a knife on her, because <em>she </em>wasn't a <em>completely paranoid</em> Dark Lady, and if she asked to borrow Bella's that would give away the game. It appeared that de Mort wasn't going to do it for her, either. (He also didn't bother justifying refusing to do something useful instead of just randomly dropping comments on her thoughts <em>all the time.</em>) But that was fine, she was perfectly capable of dealing with this unarmed. <em>Since apparently no one else thinks Evans floating away on the tide is slightly problematic...</em></p>
<p>Still nothing. Well, Bella snorted, addressing Jamie's concern. "This has nothing to do with Thom, she's <em>fine</em>, she's just a little magic-high and fae because it's Samhain and Death is less temporally discrete than humans generally perceive the universe to be."</p>
<p>That explanation was missing at least a couple of details that James wouldn't be able to fill in, like what it meant to be an anchor in a ritual of this size and how it felt to actually <em>participate</em> in a real ritual. She was sure Dorea had introduced him to Magic when he was little, but probably only once, when he was three or five. He probably didn't remember. (But that was completely irrelevant.)</p>
<p>She grabbed Evans's left wrist and the smallest finger on that hand before she could react, pulling, twisting, and <em>jamming</em> the finger out of place.</p>
<p>"Aah! Ow! Fucking <em>ow</em>, Aster, what the <em>fuck</em>?!" Evans cried, clutching at her hand, as though that would make it hurt less.</p>
<p>"Miss Black!" Dumbledore snapped, his wand suddenly in his hand, immobilising Aster with some more complex version of the basic restraint charm (either that or he was still maintaining it, because it didn't break under her silent, wandless <em>finite</em>), despite the fact that she'd already let Evans go. "Explain yourself at once!"</p>
<p>Well she <em>would</em>, but she was fucking <em>frozen</em>, wasn't she?</p>
<p>De Mort waved a negligent hand in her general direction, breaking the spell, because he was a fucking show off like that, even as Bella explained, sniggering, "Obviously she forgot her knife."</p>
<p>"I didn't <em>forget</em> it, I <em>deliberately didn't bring it</em>, because <em>why would I?!</em> You're not dead," she informed Evans. "And you're not <em>Death</em>, either. Seemed like you might need reminding of that."</p>
<p>("I know you're not much of a ritualist, but I presume you're familiar with the concept of <em>grounding</em>, Albus?")</p>
<p>"...Oh. Well, good job, I guess. <em>Fuck</em> that hurts!" Evans whined. There were actually <em>tears</em> in her eyes.</p>
<p><em>Really? Suck it up, Evans.</em> "It's supposed to. If you heal it, I'll do it again."</p>
<p>"What the <em>hell</em>, Sirius?! Did you just break her fucking finger?!"</p>
<p>("Oh, poor baby. Come here," Bella said, putting on a ridiculously overdone <em>sympathetic</em> voice. Evans <em>obviously</em> knew she was faking it, but edged a bit closer to her, anyway. "Hand.")</p>
<p>That one she couldn't just ignore, not when he was speaking to her directly. "No," she said, trying not to sound all wooden and hurt, or like she was trying overly-hard to make him see that she wasn't some terrible, finger-breaking <em>monster</em>. "I dislocated it, because when you're getting carried away by magic and the real world starts seeming <em>awfully</em> distant and unimportant, there's really nothing like a little pain to remind you that you're a mortal, physical being." There <em>were</em> other ways to ground yourself, but the problem was, when you were high enough on magic (or <em>up</em> enough) that you actually <em>needed</em> to ground yourself, you usually <em>didn't want to</em>. So.</p>
<p>"Be that as it may," Dumbledore said sternly, seizing onto the opportunity to tell her off as though it were some sort of lifeline he could follow back to a point in the conversation where he was actually in some position of authority rather than an impotent bystander. (Aster actually approved of this strategy, because it gave her a reason to stop looking at Jamie and his perpetual expression of shock and horror at the idea that she was still a Black, no matter how much she tried to pretend she wasn't.) "Corporal punishment is <em>not</em> an acceptable grounding technique, and—"</p>
<p>He was cut off by a pained yelp from Evans as Bella popped her finger back into place. "Oh, yes," Bella drawled, "because it's <em>so</em> practical to convince someone to sit down and meditate with you when they're halfway out to sea." Aster snorted. She <em>highly</em> doubted that Bella had ever tried to convince someone to sit down and meditate when stabbing them had the same effect and was a thousand times faster. She certainly never had <em>Aster</em>. "And encouraging someone to <em>focus</em> is <em>hardly</em> the same thing as punishing them. Though I'm not sure how long it will last in this case — big ritual like this with her at the centre of it, she's going to keep getting bleed-through from timelines where it <em>wasn't</em> delayed."</p>
<p>"<em>And</em>," Dumbledore continued, as though Bella hadn't spoken, "it is <em>certainly</em> not Miss Black's place to ensure Miss Evans retains some semblance of awareness of her surroundings. Indeed, the <em>most</em> effective solution to such a problem would be to definitively remove Miss Evans from the situation. Thus I say again, <em>return to the school</em>, Miss Evans. We will discuss this incident — and the wisdom of delving into deep magics such as this and the consequences of associating with such persons as Miss Black—" <em>Wait, what?</em> They were fucking <em>roommates</em>, wasn't like they had a lot of say in the matter... "—and Mister de Mort—" <em>Oh, </em>Bella. "—in a day or two, when you are feeling more yourself."</p>
<p>Evans scowled at him, but it was Bella who answered, loosing the magic she had been keeping so carefully contained to surround them with roiling, furious energy. <em>Ignoring</em> her was one of the sure-fire ways to irk her. "You will do no such thing, Albus. Asphodel's relationship with Magic is none of your business, and the only <em>consequence</em> of her association with us that you need concern yourself over is the fact she now has some leverage to resist your attempts to force her into the Light. Harassing her over either of those points will result only in her removal from your sphere of influence, and you may rest assured that I <em>will</em> take any attempt to subvert our daughter <em>very</em> personally."</p>
<p>Dumbledore's eyes narrowed dangerously at the phrase <em>our daughter</em>, forming an expression that bore a passing resemblance to <em>slyness</em>. "Why, Miss Black, can it possibly be that you actually <em>care</em> about Miss Evans? I must confess myself surprised, given that you have never expressed such enthusiastic support of your sisters or your young cousins."</p>
<p>Bella gave him a feral grin. "I <em>raised</em> Cissy, Aster, and Reggie. They don't need reminding that you hold no legitimate authority over them. That doesn't mean that I won't obliterate your presence from this plane and your memory from history if you threaten any one of them. If you manage to convince Asteria that yours is the morally superior position, I won't attempt to prevent her joining your forces, but they — including Asphodel — are not pawns in our little game. If you attempt to treat them as such, I think you'll find that the so-called <em>atrocities</em> I've allegedly committed are nothing compared to the horrors I am <em>capable</em> of inflicting on you and your people."</p>
<p>"Bella," de Mort said firmly. "This is not why we're here."</p>
<p>"Albus started it," Bella said, cheerful intimidation collapsing into childish sulkiness in the space of a breath.</p>
<p>The weight of de Mort's power all around them took on a distinctly <em>disapproving</em> tone as Evans volunteered, "You don't need to protect me, Bella. I am aware that Albus Dumbledore holds no more authority over me than any other mortal creature. And I've changed my mind. He can stay. He just doesn't want to."</p>
<p>"Wh-What is that supposed to mean?" Jamie stuttered. "Lily, you're kind of scaring me."</p>
<p>"I'm...not entirely sure what it means, actually. He can stay because Ariana misses him, but... I don't really know how I know he doesn't <em>want</em> to stay, just that he never does. And who the hell is Ariana?"</p>
<p>"His sister," de Mort explained, as Dumbledore went oddly grey again. "Her death is the reason Albus and Gellert broke up. I expect he's afraid to face her spirit, given that he is certainly responsible for her death in some part, even if he did not cast the fatal curse himself."</p>
<p>"Oh." She turned back to Dumbledore with the same serenely blank expression she'd been wearing before Aster dislocated her finger. "He needn't be. She died scared and alone. You were right there, and you didn't see, and that made her sad. But the fact of her death wasn't your fault, only the method of it. She was frail, her control weakened by mourning and the loss of the only constant in her life. Had you not been there to take her mind away from Kendra, her magic would have overwhelmed her mind and body, destroying her in the expression of her pain."</p>
<p>"I— Miss Evans, this conversation is not over," the Headmaster said, edging away from her slightly even as he said it, <em>obviously</em> unnerved. Not surprising, really, he probably didn't spend much time at all around people channelling the Powers, and especially not when they were deliberately trying to make him uncomfortable. Or at least, Aster assumed that was deliberate. He <em>was</em> getting in the way of Death's party, after all. "We <em>will</em> be discussing your behaviour tonight at a later date!"</p>
<p>Evans sighed. "Yes, Brian, dear, you may be excused." Yeah, that <em>definitely</em> wasn't Evans speaking. Maybe Dumbledore's mum? The man fled, trying very hard not to look like that was exactly what he was doing, and failing miserably. Evans smirked as he scuttled off toward the school — a verb Aster had never before associated with Albus Dumbledore. "Good. I was hoping I wouldn't have to get Percival involved. Nasty piece of work, he was."</p>
<p>Bella, still giggling over Dumbledore being excused by his mum via Evans, reached over and tweaked her finger, the knuckle still swollen and obviously tender.</p>
<p>She hissed in pain, eyes clenched against it. When they fluttered open again, she looked around as though surprised to see herself standing in the clearing before the Samhain bonfire, students cautiously approaching.</p>
<p>"So, um...we should do the ritual, because I'm starting not to feel so good." She didn't <em>look</em> so good either, swaying slightly on her feet.</p>
<p>De Mort rolled his eyes, throwing an arm around her shoulders to steady her. "Yes, there are reasons that one generally invokes Aspects via ritual rather than direct resonance possession."</p>
<p>"Shut up." Evans glared weakly up at him, before turning her attention to the figures approaching out of the dark. "Where's Evan? Rosier — he's supposed to be the Master of Ceremonies, he— Rosier!"</p>
<p>"Who else is supposed to be in the circle?" Bella asked.</p>
<p>"Ah... It's Evan, Narcissa, Flo Ainsley, Thaddeus Kronk, Amy Bones, Dierk Wilkes, Lettie Selwyn, Nic Carmichael, and me."</p>
<p>De Mort's magic spread throughout the clearing as she spoke, presumably seeking out the individuals she'd named to drag their arses over here, which was just... One wizard should not be able to flood that much space with their personal magic, okay? It was kind of obscene, and overwhelmingly...<em>overwhelming</em>, and Aster didn't want to think de Mort was hot, okay, no matter how much of a turn-on that kind of power was.</p>
<p>His amusement shivered through her, but he didn't otherwise comment, <em>thankfully</em>. He'd probably say something like, <em>I don't need the Imperius to make you do humiliating shite</em>, or <em>I'm sure Bella wouldn't mind if you joined us on occasion</em>, which—</p>
<p><em>Well, you see, I don't really </em>need <em>to say anything, given that you've clearly already stumbled across the more pertinent elements of my commentary of your own accord...</em></p>
<p>
  <em>GET OUT OF MY HEAD, DE MORT!</em>
</p>
<p>"You— You're on first name terms with Black and Rosier?" Jamie sounded slightly horrified, as though <em>that</em> was the most disturbing thing Evans had said in the past...however long they'd been out here now.</p>
<p>"Yes, <em>Potter</em>, I am," she said coolly, emphasising his own surname ever-so-slightly, just to drive it home that she favoured <em>Narcissa and Evan</em> over <em>him</em>. It hit home, too — Aster saw him flinch as he got it. "Oh, hey, Sev," she said, glancing over his shoulder to where the Dungeon Bat was emerging from the shadows, alongside Reggie and Evan.</p>
<p>"Lily...why are you literally cozying up to the Dark Lord?" Snape asked, nodding slightly deferentially to both Bella and the Dark Lord in question as Reg and Evan made much more obsequious greetings.</p>
<p>"Er, gravity's being mean to me? Evan, we need to start the ritual, we're <em>late</em>."</p>
<p>"My question was more, why is Monsieur de Mort the person helping you fight off that evil bastard which is gravity?"</p>
<p>"Oh. Apparently he's my father. It's this whole <em>thing</em>."</p>
<p>"He's <em>what?"</em> all three of the Slytherins managed to say in concert.</p>
<p>"This is what happens when you skive off on Hogsmeade because I'm creeping you out."</p>
<p>"You go off and become even creepier?"</p>
<p>"Well, I was going with <em>you miss things</em>, but yes, that too, probably. I don't know, I can't tell. Thom, this is Severus Snape — as you may recall, he's mine, you can't have him. Also," she added, turning briefly to Jamie, "I'm stealing Aster, you don't deserve her." Which... Aster was so completely <em>blindsided</em> by that declaration, she barely heard the rest of the introduction. "Sev, this is Thom, though you should probably not call him that."</p>
<p>"Er...well met, sir."</p>
<p>Evans giggled, though at his calling de Mort <em>sir</em> or de Mort's so-grave-I'm-clearly-being-sarcastic, "Mister Snape," Aster wasn't sure.</p>
<p>Snape glared at Aster. "I thought you said you would stop her from doing anything mad, Black!"</p>
<p>Bella laughed at him, probably because the Blacks didn't precisely have a reputation for <em>not</em> doing mad shite. "She didn't get arrested, and what was I supposed to do? Go back in time and ensure that de Mort <em>didn't</em> rape her mum?"</p>
<p>"<em>Obviously not</em>, if you had Lily wouldn't <em>exist!"</em></p>
<p>"Then I fail to understand your objection."</p>
<p>This might be a landmark event — in five years of constant insults and provocation, Aster didn't actually think she'd ever managed to render Snape speechless. As he stared at her with an expression that couldn't quite seem to decide whether it was anger, resignation, or confusion (or some degree of all three options, and probably more besides), she overheard Bella say, "Asphodel de Mort, adopted daughter of the House of Black."</p>
<p>"I didn't agree to be adopted, remember? I already have a family."</p>
<p>"They're muggles," Evan said bluntly. "They don't count."</p>
<p>"<em>Evan</em>," Reg hissed, "don't <em>insult</em> her! Er, I'm sorry, by the way, Miss de Mort, about, um..."</p>
<p>"Generally being an enormous twat?" Aster suggested.</p>
<p>"Er...yes, that. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you...?"</p>
<p>"No, there's not, really. I mean, now I know you can't get Bella to kill my <em>muggle</em> family — who <em>definitely count</em>, Rosier — there's no reason not to repay all the shite you've done trying to recruit Sev, is there? Also, it's still Evans. And Thom's right, we should do the ritual, you can grovel for mercy later."</p>
<p>Amy Bones approached cautiously, clearly not keen to interrupt — Aster would bet anything she was fully aware who Bella and de Mort were — but eager to get on with their night. "So, we are doing the ritual then? The Headmaster okayed it?"</p>
<p>"Yes," Evans declared, stepping toward the fire very decisively, only to stagger to one side as though completely trashed. "Fucking gravity! Come on, Amy, Evan. You have everything set up?"</p>
<p>Amy and Evan led her — and the pack of other amateur ritualists — off to do whatever they actually needed to do still. It wasn't like there was a <em>whole</em> lot of preparation, beyond starting the fire and making sure everyone had their sacrifice to hand. Water, wine, honey, bread, meat, life, feeling, and...she couldn't remember the other two off the top of her head. In her defense, she usually didn't come down until the rite was well under way. She usually tried to resist the pull of the magic but she very rarely managed it.</p>
<p><em>Creation </em>— <em>specifically toolmaking, generally represented by an enchanted artefact or a complex potion or alchemical product </em>— <em>and expression </em>— <em>generally some form of artwork. They're the other two anchors.</em></p>
<p>Right. She knew that. <em>So is it just me, or is this really awkward?</em> she wondered, casting a glance at Reggie, awkwardly trying to suss out through Bella's teasing how angry Evans was with him and what degree of grovelling would be necessary; to Snape, who obviously thought this situation called for <em>some</em> degree of...something, and was therefore awkwardly apologising for Evans claiming him like that...or possibly for the assumption that de Mort would <em>want</em> to recruit him, because that was presumptive...or something; to Jamie, looking around slightly wild-eyed, as though he was desperately hoping that this was a nightmare or everyone collectively fucking with him.</p>
<p>Not that Aster would be particularly disappointed herself to find out that this entire surreal, disturbing, painful day had been a particularly vivid nightmare, but it definitely wasn't.</p>
<p>Without any conscious decision to do so, she found herself drifting over to him. "You alright, Jamie?"</p>
<p>He glared at her. "No! No, Sirius, I'm not <em>alright!</em> I don't— How— What the <em>hell</em> is going on here? <em>De Mort</em> is Lily's father?! And what– what was <em>wrong</em> with her? Why did she say those things to Dumbledore? How did she even <em>know</em>— I mean, she <em>didn't</em> know what she was saying...did she?"</p>
<p>Aster sighed. "Of course she knew what she was saying. She didn't know how she knew it, there's a difference. And yes, he's her sire, I can't believe I didn't see it before, they're <em>eerily</em> similar in some ways—" Though, come to think of it, part of that might be because today <em>was</em> Samhain. Standing too close to Death <em>would</em> make it a bit difficult to care about shite like him and Bella raping and torturing into catatonia (respectively) the mother Evans never knew. Yes, she <em>was</em> a cold bitch, but that was a bit much even for her, Aster thought. "—and I could spend <em>days</em> telling you what's wrong with her. Pretty sure I <em>have</em>, actually. But tonight? Mostly just, she was raised by muggles. No one <em>taught</em> her how to do ritual magic and she's <em>obviously</em> a necromancer, so—"</p>
<p>"<em>Necromancer?!"</em></p>
<p>"Er...yeah? Not <em>formally</em>, with the sacrifices and the veils and shite, obviously, but..." <em>Formal</em> necromancy was kind of rare, these days. Aster had met exactly one proper necromancer (other than Evans), one of the positively <em>ancient</em> Boneses, he had to be getting on two-hundred and fifty (and wasn't a metamorph or something, so actually looked it). He was still sharp, though. She didn't actually remember why she'd been over to theirs in the first place (she'd been all of six at the time). The part of that day that really stood out in her memory was asking "Grandfather" why he was wearing a veil, even though it wasn't a funeral, and hearing more about formal necromancy, the sacrifices they made and their traditions of removing themselves from humanity in order to become closer to Death, than she'd ever expected to hear.</p>
<p>From what she remembered, it had sounded terrible.</p>
<p>She distinctly recalled not understanding why anyone would choose to live like that, never touching another human being, never eating tasty things or doing anything exciting — not really <em>living</em>, as far as she was concerned — but he hadn't seemed <em>unhappy</em> about it. In hindsight, he actually seemed a little <em>absent</em>, like he wasn't really paying much attention to the world around him at all, maybe because he was already mostly on the other side of the Veil (he'd died not long after, she thought). But not the point. Evans clearly wasn't <em>that</em> kind of necromancer.</p>
<p>"But nothing, Sirius! I think I would've noticed if Lily went around doing bloody death rituals and killing people and shite!"</p>
<p>...<em>Maybe</em>... Yes, Jamie did spend an awful lot of time stalking Evans, but she could be a sneaky bitch. And he'd clearly managed (somehow) to avoid noticing that she was a bloody dark ritualist <em>regardless</em> of Aster <em>literally telling him</em> as much, on <em>multiple occasions.</em></p>
<p>Besides, she knew she was right.</p>
<p>See, the point of making those sacrifices, foregoing all the things that made life <em>interesting</em> and <em>fun</em> in favour of priestly abstinence, was...basically turning your entire life into a ritual to attract Death's attention. Living in emulation of Death and the Dead and forcing people to consider the reality of death whether they liked to or not, and asking in exchange that Death gift you with knowledge, usually of the nature of the soul or Magic or whatever. Which ironically meant Death probably didn't like them much, that they didn't have much natural resonance with It — if they <em>did</em>, they wouldn't need to go to that much effort to catch Its eye (metaphorically). <em>Dark</em> necromancers, ones who went about attracting Death's attention with human sacrifices and begging Its favour in war and such, were similar in that way.</p>
<p>"People Death <em>likes</em> don't need to do anything special to get Its attention. Doesn't mean she's not a necromancer. Death talks to her. They have an established <em>thing</em> outside of this ritual, too, so she's getting more bleed-through than Amy and Evan, even though they're anchors, too. And because she hasn't been doing rituals since she was a little kid, she never learned how to focus on the mundane world when magic's running away with you."</p>
<p>De Mort, apparently having finally gotten Snape to shut up and stop apologising, gave a sort of considering hum as he turned to their conversation. "It's not <em>just</em> that. I presume you're familiar with the concept of soul resonance?"</p>
<p>Aster was. Jamie clearly wasn't. Unless he was just <em>so</em> uncomfortable with the Dark Lord <em>speaking to him directly</em> that he couldn't form a response.</p>
<p><em>A bit of both,</em> de Mort informed her, amusement accompanying the thought.</p>
<p>"The gods favour those mortals in whom they see themselves reflected, humans who, by simply living their lives, reinforce the reality of the existence of the gods their souls echo. Their souls resonate naturally with some aspect of magic, strongly enough that they're easily influenced, especially in the shadow of a major working such as this."</p>
<p>"And– and Lily is...<em>that</em>? So it wasn't really her, saying those things?"</p>
<p>De Mort gave Jamie a sinister smile. "It was and it wasn't. Regardless of the degree of influence Persephone might hold over Asphodel at any given moment, however, I assure you she is <em>very</em> much my daughter. You may wish to keep that in mind, if you intend to persist in your asinine pursuit of her affections."</p>
<p>"What is <em>that</em> supposed to mean?" James demanded, momentarily forgetting, it appeared, that he was speaking <em>to the Dark Lord</em>.</p>
<p>Bella ghosted up behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in an apparently casual gesture, though when he flinched away Aster had the <em>distinct</em> impression she was preventing him from moving, fingers digging into his upper arm. "It <em>means</em>, Cousin, that Asphodel's tolerance for your idiocy is finite. And if you continue to press her after her patience is exhausted, she <em>will</em> eat you alive. Metaphorically. Probably."</p>
<p>"<em>Bella</em>," Aster snapped. "Leave him alone."</p>
<p>"Are you forgetting this little piece of shite made you cry earlier this evening?"</p>
<p>Aster found herself inhaling rather sharply. <em>Fuck you, de Mort. And </em>not <em>in a sexy way!</em> (Because him creeping into her head to catch up on what they'd missed in the past few hours was the <em>only</em> way Bella could know that, <em>fucker</em>.)</p>
<p><em>Nonsense. I simply asked Asphodel how precisely Mister Potter managed to prove himself unworthy of your affections when she decided to claim </em>you <em>as well as this shy young man.</em></p>
<p>(Snape, presumably, who was edging carefully away from de Mort, muttering something to a very disturbed Reggie, the two of them probably trying to work through the sudden revelation that Evans was the Dark Lord's daughter. Not important.)</p>
<p><em>Fine, I stand corrected. Fuck you, </em>Evans<em>!</em> "Are you forgetting I don't need you to protect me? If you want to help, you can explain how the fuck I'm supposed to take Jamie's word for it that taking his word for what's right and wrong is, in fact, wrong."</p>
<p>Bella shrugged. "Sure. Your precious <em>Jamie</em> is an idiot, and doesn't have the necessary degree of confidence in his own beliefs and their internal consistency to support your reliance on his guidance in lieu of developing your own. He knows he's going to fail you, so it's not in your best interests to rely on him, which makes it <em>wrong</em>. Not <em>morally</em>, for you — it could be morally wrong for him, I suppose, to encourage your reliance on him, knowing he's weak and unworthy — but for you it's just <em>practically</em> wrong. <em>Disadvantageous,</em> <em>not discordant</em>," she added, slipping into Gobbledygook to make the distinction clearer. Which...that actually kind of made sense. Still <em>hurt</em>, she had to tell him that he <em>wasn't</em> going to fail her — she <em>trusted</em> him, his judgment, even if he didn't trust himself — but not now, in front of Bella and de Mort. "Though it could also just be that he's scared that a few simple questions and observations can so easily undermine his perfect, light little world." She let go of the petrified James to ruffle Aster's loose, unstyled curls. "Honestly, it's good Asphodel's stealing you, because at this rate the Old Goat isn't going to <em>want</em> you on <em>his</em> side."</p>
<p>"Well <em>I</em> don't want to be on <em>your</em> side. Not if you're going to keep killing innocent civilians and bloody <em>muggles</em> to provoke the Aurors."</p>
<p>"Yes, well, you know what you can do about that, don't you?" de Mort interjected,</p>
<p>Before Aster could snap back something along the lines of their taking the Isle of Man and buggering off to let the government collapse in the wake of their secession being even worse than actually taking over Britain and running it properly, Evan called for their attention, beginning the ritual, an unnatural hush falling over the clearing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. First-Person Necromancy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Hogwarts Samhain ritual, the Dance of the Dead, is relatively simple. Most high ritual is, honestly. Sometimes you have to brew a potion or gather certain elements of the sacrifice ahead of time, but the actual <em>invoking gods</em> part is usually pretty straightforward. Even more so when it's a legal holiday ritual, just calling on the Power and recognising its influence in our lives, not actually trying to get it to <em>do</em> anything for you.</p>
<p>Which isn't to say that nothing <em>happens</em>, just, it's between the ritualist and the Power, there's no external subject or object. There are plenty of <em>illegal</em> holiday-related rituals that <em>do</em> have an external element, of course. The Black Samhain ritual — the oldest one, at least — is sympathetic magic intended to wreak destruction on our enemies, whoever that might be at the time. Capture one of them, kill them horribly, corrupt their spirit and through it their Family Magic. (It hasn't been used in <em>centuries</em>, of course, but there are reasons it's a <em>terrible</em> idea to get into a serious blood feud with a Dark House.) External subject/sacrifice; external object/target. The one we used when I was a kid was much tamer — sacrificing a trio of ravens, remembering the members of the House who had passed beyond the Veil, and "laying to rest" the spirits of those killed by still-living members of the Family over the past year (i.e., summoning any lingering, vengeful shades and placating them by spilling the blood of their killer(s) (usually Bella) and letting them torture said killer(s) in their sleep in a secondary ritual). External subject; internal object (because wrathful dead are still part of Death).</p>
<p>Though that's still far more involved than just lighting a candle for your lost loved ones and speaking to them from across the Veil, which is what most Samhain rituals come down to.</p>
<p>The Hogwarts ritual is somewhere between those latter two examples, in terms of how...involved it is, but it is legal (even in Britain) — i.e., between the ritualists and the Power they're invoking, with no long-term costs or benefits for the ritualists. Rather than just speaking across the Veil, the Veil is pierced, allowing the spirits of the Dead to possess Witnesses and share memories of their lives, celebrate the cycle of life and death, dance with the Living on the border between them. It's much more about the nature of Death itself than the ritual I grew up with, which was more about...redress, I suppose.</p>
<p>Death is counted among the Dark Powers by the Light, but it's not dark in the same malicious, anti-social sense as <em>the</em> Dark. It's far more concerned with balance, equilibrium. And there are certain times when people are "meant" to die. Like Dumbledore's sister, Ariana, would have died on the day of her mother's funeral regardless of whether Dumbledore, his younger brother, and Grindelwald got into a duel or not. And (<em>apparently</em>) like I <em>wasn't</em> meant to die when Orion cursed me in the wake of my first Yule ritual. That doesn't mean they <em>can't</em> die at other times, just, it's far less probable that they will. I'm not honestly sure <em>how low</em> the probability of dying without conscious external interference at any given moment has to be to count, but whatever it is innocent people who are murdered simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and caught the wrong person's eye, or people whose lives are sacrificed for rituals or "for science" rather than from misfortune or age or illness or some other natural cause, are considered to have died "early". And that annoys some incarnations of Death.</p>
<p>Not really sure <em>why</em>, maybe something to do with temporo-spatial canalisation? Subtly un-balancing the potential futures of a universe? Asphodel would probably know...</p>
<hr/>
<p>It's because Death encompasses the future as well as the past, everything which has been and will be, which means it has certain..."expectations", you might call them, for the experiences a soul it will eventually absorb will have had. From some perspectives, those experiences are already a part of it <em>because the Dead know all</em> and time is <em>not</em> linear for Death. Which is <em>fine</em>, until someone comes along and kills a particular soul <em>early</em>, and those experiences suddenly vanish, because they will never have happened. Paradoxes are not any less of a pain in the arse when time is simultaneously a river and an ocean, okay? The <em>least</em> you can do if you're going to go around murdering and/or sacrificing people is acknowledge that you're a pain in the arse, and make some gesture of apology.</p>
<p>I presume Aster was planning to explain, generally speaking, a Witness's perspective of the Hogwarts Yule ritual, which is really very limited. Basically, just skipping over everything from the Sacrifice of Feeling until the Fire wanes and Death recedes, because most people don't remember anything of the Dance and the memories they shared with the Dead. Kind of like a really good, vivid dream which you forget as soon as you wake up. And then skip to whatever she and Potter talked about afterward. But that would mean skipping over what I honestly think is the most entertaining part of the whole evening.</p>
<p>(And yes, Thom, this <em>is</em> necessary to the story, don't you dare vanish it!)</p>
<hr/>
<p>By the time everyone was in place and Evan had called the Witnesses to order, Lily had given up. Rather than continue to fight a losing battle against gravity, she was kneeling, brilliant phoenix skirts pooled around her, earth cool and moist against her knees, far too close to the fire — her face and chest were almost painfully hot — but moving would mean standing, so. The heat would go away soon enough.</p>
<p>The magic, too.</p>
<p>Or rather, the magic would <em>move</em>, flowing through and around Lily, rather than pooling in her head and making it hard to think, hard to <em>focus</em>, little bits and pieces of thought and memory leaking into her consciousness from the much larger (<em>infinite</em>) presence she could feel pressing against her almost physically (far more <em>real</em> than the physical world). It was — <em>She</em> was — <em>right there</em>, separated from this plane, from Lily, by the Veil, grown so thin it was barely there at all, <em>so close</em>!</p>
<p>So close, so close to being <em>here</em>, to reaching <em>Her</em>, to– to losing herself in the magic— It was <em>calling</em> to her! She <em>needed</em> it, desperately, or at least, a small corner of her <em>self</em> did, the part which was just Lily, and not already feeling the presence of the goddess, burying her under timeless patience and <em>inevitability</em> (and sometimes telling her — not <em>telling</em>, but — things like that Ariana missed her brother); rising up to overtake her entirely, just for a moment, just to get rid of that last annoying impediment for her (her finger throbbed — she was probably going to care about that, stepping aside to let <em>Her</em> run Dumbledore off, in the morning, or <em>eventually</em>, in a few days, whatever, but not <em>now</em>); surging as Evan called the Witnesses to order.</p>
<p>She felt them take their places in the outer circle, magic growing heavy in the air, responding to their anticipation even before the ritual itself began. She couldn't focus enough on the real world to listen to his words, but they didn't matter anyway. She felt the circle carved into the earth, drawing on the strength of the Woods and the Forest beyond, the cycle of death and life which was the natural world, magic — <em>energy</em> — drawn in, streaming toward the fire as they made their offerings, swirling around her and through her—</p>
<p><em>Florence </em>— <em>water.</em></p>
<p><em>Thaddeus </em>— <em>bread.</em></p>
<p>Fundamental necessities of life, <em>sustenance</em>. Simple, bland, but essential, meeting the barest animal needs of survival.</p>
<p><em>Evan </em>— <em>the ability to </em>create<em>, to </em>build<em>, which defines sentience </em>— <em>dozens of hours of work shaping clay and carving tiny, intricate runes to form a simple, elegant vessel which perpetually refilled itself with pure, clean water.</em></p>
<p><em>Narcissa </em>— <em>wine.</em></p>
<p><em>Dierk </em>— <em>meat.</em></p>
<p><em>Lettie </em>— <em>honey.</em></p>
<p>The fruits and richness of the world. Exploiting the world around us and embracing the sweetness and savor of life to truly <em>live</em> rather than to merely <em>survive</em>.</p>
<p><em>Amy </em>— <em>the awareness and expression of self which defines sapience, shaping the world to reflect oneself not for function but for </em>beauty — <em>a set of panpipes made, like Evan's perpetual fountain, by the girl herself, simple and crude, the sounds produced haunting, hinting at pain and fear and hope and </em>beyond<em>, with no purpose save to give voice to them.</em></p>
<p><em>Nic </em>— <em>life. Power, and the exercise thereof. The blood of an innocent creature, spilled simply to lend weight to the ritual. Meaning. </em>Potential<em>. </em><em>Acting with consequence</em>.</p>
<p>And then, finally, Lily. <em>Feeling</em>. Joy and loss and love and hate (or as close as she knew, anyway). Pain and pleasure. The heart of <em>humanity</em>, her experience of the world and her reactions to it.</p>
<p>She dragged the blade of her athame across her forearm — too deeply, probably. It didn't hurt as much as she knew it should (was that a bad thing? that might be a bad thing...), but blood welled forth immediately, trickling down, around her wrist, dripping from her fingers. "<em>I dedicate to Death my pain — my pleasure, my joy, my guilt and my sorrow! Let the Dead recall passion, the loves and hatreds of their lives! Let them recall what it is to feel, and in so doing, be drawn to Life, to live and feel once again!"</em></p>
<p>Not her actual <em>words</em>, of course. The incantation was actually in Ancient Egyptian, Lily had memorised the syllables by rote. But that was what it <em>meant</em>, or what <em>she</em> meant, in any case, even if her pronunciation might have been a bit off in the particulars — none of the organisers actually <em>spoke</em> the language of the incantation, after all — and that was what <em>mattered</em>. Death knew as well as she did what she was offering and what she wanted in return.</p>
<p>The magic in the air around her circled ever-faster in excited anticipation, drawing in more power, and more <em>yet</em>, expanding well beyond the Circle of Witnesses, pulling from the eternal cycle of life and death throughout the Forest, from the lowliest lichen to the wisest of centaurs, they were all a part of it, she could <em>feel</em> them, she could—</p>
<p><em>Asphodel, focus</em>, a foreign not-voice whispered at the back of her mind (surprisingly familiar given that she'd only <em>met</em> Thom a handful of hours ago)<em>.</em></p>
<p>Calm. Vaguely amused. Not truly <em>concerned </em>that she might let the power continue to grow until it completely overwhelmed her, though that <em>was</em> why he had spoken up. If the ritual destabilised and collapsed on them, he would be fine. Bella too, probably. But everyone else would be <em>fucked</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes, including two people you so recently claimed as your own. And yourself.</em>
</p>
<p><em>Right...</em> She shouldn't <em>actually die</em> again, Persephone would be annoyed with her. And if she were annoyed with Lily, she <em>probably</em> wouldn't let her resurrect Sev and Aster if she killed them with her overconfidence.</p>
<p><em>Okay, showtime</em>, she thought, pitching the bloody knife into the heart of the flames.</p>
<p>It sliced through the Veil as it fell, transforming the fire itself into a portal to the Void, the circling magic streaming into it, <em>through</em> it, the energy of Life breathing itself into Death, creating a conduit and an <em>imbalance</em> — the flames burned blue, drawing in all the heat they'd been throwing off and more—</p>
<p>The Witnesses, behind her and all around the edge of the circle spoke as one: "<em>We bear witness!</em>"</p>
<p>The nine Participants, Lily included, responded similarly in unison. The words fell from her lips without any conscious effort to match the others, prompted by the momentum of the ritual, Magic saying as much as any of them, "<em>Let it be so!"</em></p>
<p>The balance of power in the ritual stabilised after a moment. Lily couldn't really say how long, but the feeling of energy streaming past her, out of the universe like air into a vacuum, ceased. The space within the circle began to change, itself drawn slightly out of sync with the rest of the mundane world. Lily wasn't sure how other people perceived it, but to her everything became a little <em>sharper</em>, a little more <em>real</em>. More <em>immediate</em>. Time had less meaning, maybe none at all, and she could feel the voices of the Dead whispering all around her, a soft susurration of not-sound, calling to her, stronger than usual — <em>come to Us, Lily, you belong with Us</em>...</p>
<p>She'd felt it last year too, <em>known</em> in the same peculiar way she knew how to design any ritual, that she was meant to do this, that <em>this</em> was the next step — standing out there in the Circle of Witnesses, it had <em>hurt</em> not to do it, not to be in a position to take that step, almost physically. She had been <em>out of place</em>, almost in the same way she had been earlier, when they'd been <em>late</em>, and she hadn't been able to fix it.</p>
<p>Tonight, though, she was <em>exactly</em> where she was meant to be.</p>
<p>As the balance of power reached the turning point, the moment when Life ceased to flow into Death, but before Death began to seep through the Veil into Life, she stepped forward.</p>
<p>Evan saw her move. She <em>felt</em> him respond, too full of magic to really focus on his words, his hand on her arm or the look on his face, but she felt his fear, his concern. She pushed him away. Gently — it wasn't his fault he didn't understand, this was part of it, but it was a <em>new</em> part, he didn't know, yet.</p>
<p>"<em>Trust me</em>," she whispered, the shadows echoing her all around the clearing.</p>
<p>He didn't, but he did stop trying to stop her, held himself back, still uneasy, still concerned. Not that she was going to mess up the ritual, but for <em>her</em> — how peculiar, she hadn't thought Evan liked her enough to care if she lost herself on the other side of the Veil...</p>
<p>Not that she was crossing over <em>entirely</em>. Just...standing in the doorway, sort of. On the threshold. Surrounded by fire no longer hot or cold, the chill of Death on her face and the warmth of Life at her back, making <em>herself</em> as much a part of the conduit as the flames. She repeated the invocation — all of it, not just her part.</p>
<p><em>Come join us! Remember life! Dance with us! Feel the warmth! Share in our celebration! Recall sating hunger and thirst, indulging in sweetness and savor and merriment! Remember potential fulfilled, and that left unawakened! Recall the ways you changed the world </em>— <em>your accomplishments, your art, your passion! Remember who you </em>are<em>, remember </em>life<em>, and join us here, at the border between our realms! The Veil is parted! Thrice now we entreat you </em>— <em>come, join us, to dance and remember, and share that remembrance with the Living!</em></p>
<p>The cold of Death began to spread, spirits materialising from it as the Dance began, choosing their partners. The Witnesses began to move to the unheard beat, the Dead joining them, possessing them and sharing memories, changing partners as the Dance progressed. By the end of the evening most Witnesses would have relived bits and pieces of a dozen or more lives — the most important memories preserved in each spirit, those which shaped the essence of <em>who they were</em>.</p>
<p>
  <em>Now.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I offer myself to Death, to the face of my Lady Persephone. I offer not only my passion, my feeling, but all that I am! I give myself over to Her, body and soul, that she too might walk among the Living tonight, and join us in our celebration!</em>
</p>
<p>She responded, of course. She was already <em>there</em>, in Lily and in everything, but Her focus grew sharper, narrowing in on the foolhardy young girl, already standing as close as she could to Death without actually joining it, and still longing for <em>more</em>. A favoured child, conceived in Death and so drawn to it, her soul reflecting that of the goddess who had intervened, who had revived her mother and ensured her life would come to be.</p>
<p>
  <em>Wait, really?</em>
</p>
<p>Amusement shivered through her, deep and overwhelming, the familiar image of a young woman coalescing in her mind's eye. She was a few years older than Lily (she was <em>always</em> a few years older than Lily), her hair light, eyes dark and sardonic. A little curvier than Lily, and a little taller, wearing a simple chiton — dark, heart's-blood red. (She always wore red, too, Lily didn't know why.) <em>Yes, of course. And I </em>like <em>red. Do I need a reason?</em></p>
<p>She supposed not. <em>Hi.</em> There really ought to be more to say here, she thought, but she'd already said it, inviting the goddess to live through her tonight.</p>
<p>She could ask whether <em>Persephone</em> had ever been planning on telling her that she was adopted, but she assumed the answer would be something like <em>no, what difference does it make</em> — <em>families</em> were one of those things gods tended not to understand in the same way humans did. <em>Their</em> idea of family was something along the lines of having overlapping areas of interest and/or effect. By that measure, Lily was hardly related to her mum and dad, or even her biological mother, at all. (She presumed, she didn't really know anything about Matilde.) Thom...maybe — she had the impression that he was much closer to Destruction than Death, but they shared a fascination with Mystery that was probably enough to consider them some degree of family. But by <em>that</em> measure, she was much more Persephone's daughter than even Tom's. Or possibly Hecate's. But then, they <em>were</em> really just two different names for <em>everything</em>...</p>
<p><em>Someone's a bit more distracted than usual tonight,</em> the goddess thought at her, light and teasing, but still almost overwhelming in the sheer weight of her <em>presence</em>.</p>
<p><em>You're very distracting</em>, she thought back mimicking Her tone<em>.</em> ...She hadn't meant that to sound <em>nearly</em> as flirty as it had... Not that she had a problem flirting with Death, just, she hadn't been <em>intending</em> to. Especially not so soon after thinking that Kore was probably something like her mother by godly standards.</p>
<p><em>What part of offering yourself to me, body and soul, </em>wasn't <em>flirting?</em> The goddess's amusement shivered through her again. <em>And incest is also one of those things that doesn't really make sense from my perspective. We are, after all, </em>everything<em>.</em></p>
<p><em>So...more like really complicated masturbation, then? Wait, no, I'm supposed to be focusing. It's just kind of hard when You're </em>here<em>, and</em>— <em>And I want You. I want to be </em>Yours<em>. It's</em>— <em>I'm </em>supposed <em>to do this, aren't I? It feels right. And You're here, but You haven't said...</em></p>
<p>She hadn't said whether she was taking Lily up on the offer. And Lily <em>needed</em> her to. She needed to <em>know</em>...</p>
<p>
  <em>Hmm...well, I suppose that depends...</em>
</p>
<p>Now She was just being a tease. <em>Depends on </em>what<em>?!</em></p>
<p><em>On whether you're just offering </em>tonight<em>, or whether you were thinking of something more...committed.</em> The image of the goddess raised an eyebrow at her, a smirk accompanying that insinuating tone.</p>
<p>Which... <em>Oh.</em></p>
<p>Did Lily <em>want</em> to dedicate herself to Persephone? Yes, of course she did. She'd considered it before, when Kore had been telling her off for accidentally killing herself and <em>why wouldn't you just ask, stupid girl?!</em> But if she <em>did</em>, she would—</p>
<p>Well, the reasons that had seemed so convincing for her to say <em>no</em> then seemed somewhat <em>less</em> convincing now. And not only because it was hard to think in a straight line at the moment — standing here, now, on the very edge of Death, with Persephone's teasing smirk lingering in her mind's eye, Her presence making it hard to <em>breathe</em>, almost—</p>
<p>The goddess pulled back a little at that thought.</p>
<p><em>I didn't want You to go away,</em> Lily complained. <em>It's not a </em>bad <em>sort of </em>hard to breathe<em>...</em></p>
<p>Persephone, of course, found that rather amusing, but She kept Her focus more generalised anyway. <em>Poo</em>.</p>
<p>Lily wanted nothing more than to be as close as possible to her Lady — it felt <em>right</em> to stand in Her presence, more right than <em>anything</em> — but she'd decided before that she couldn't. Everyone knew black mages (or white mages, she still didn't really think there was a difference) were a bit odd (er...everyone who knew anything about black mages, which was really...not many people, probably), and given that Lily was <em>already</em> a bit odd and barely passed for normal most days, becoming a bit odd<em>er</em> seemed likely to draw unwanted attention down on herself (regardless of whether most people knew <em>why</em> she'd become even weirder). But, well. She'd already kind of cursed herself in the foot there, telling Dumbledore that Thom bloody de Mort was her sire, and all.</p>
<p>And, well...the other, more important reason, or maybe the bit that followed on the first, was she had known she would have to live in Britain for at least a couple more years. Dedicating oneself to the Powers was Anathema, full stop, and it was <em>much</em> more difficult to talk your way out of a death sentence for becoming a black mage than it was to pretend ignorance about the legality of certain books or journals you happened to have in your possession. But she didn't, now. Not really. Like Bella had said earlier — she had <em>options</em>. If Dumbledore (or anyone else) made a stink about it, she could just run off and claim sanctuary in New Avalon. (At the moment, New Avalon was only Ancient House, the Black property Bella occupied, but still, she was pretty sure that Thom and Bella wouldn't let her be kissed by a dementor and chucked through the Veil.)</p>
<p>Honestly, it was kind of tempting to do so <em>anyway</em>. She'd only spent the one afternoon with Thom and Bella, and — all murderous tendencies aside — she could already tell she got along better with them (and Aster) than anyone else other than Sev. And if she was being really, <em>really</em> honest with herself, she didn't actually care about them torturing and killing people she didn't even know. She knew she <em>should</em>, it would break Mum's heart if she admitted she didn't, but there were reasons she <em>always</em> put on at least a <em>bit</em> of a show. Yes, it would be better if they <em>didn't</em>, but she wasn't going to convince them of that from the opposite side of a war, was she? So there was really no reason <em>not</em> to just give up on the whole <em>trying to fit in with the Light</em> thing, was there?</p>
<p>Not that she was going to just walk away from the principles she'd tried to live by for the past sixteen years (even if she had trouble really <em>embracing</em> them), but if it came down to being ostracised or her life being in danger for doing something as absolutely <em>right</em> as giving herself to Persephone, she <em>did</em> have somewhere to go.</p>
<p>Which meant there was no reason at all not to admit, <em>I'm yours, completely and forever. I'm pretty sure I always have been...</em></p>
<p><em>Just a bit</em>. Pleasure radiated through her as the goddess came back — focused more on Lily again — her soul <em>thrumming</em>, resonating with Death, though...</p>
<p>
  <em>What happens now?</em>
</p>
<p>She knew that dedicants often offered their service in exchange for some favour or gift, but she knew, instinctively, that this wasn't like that. This was a <em>calling</em>, not some sort of <em>transaction</em> — all she really <em>wanted</em> was to be as close to her Lady as possible. (If what she felt for Sev wasn't love, maybe this was...)</p>
<p>Kore giggled, high and light, like the girl she might have been before descending to Hades that first time. Though if Lily's soul really did reflect hers, she probably never had been as innocent as the stories made her out to be. (The goddess found this even more amusing, probably because Lily was <em>completely</em> right. She never had bought that whole <em>kidnapping</em> line.) <em>This is why I like you, you know. You have the right </em>attitude <em>about these things. And nothing more </em>needs <em>to happen now. After all, </em>your <em>Dedication is little more than formally recognising the way things already were between us.</em></p>
<p>(Implying, Lily thought, that for other people there probably <em>would</em> be more to it. Which was...probably not as weird as it felt like it should be, if Persephone had laid claim to Lily's soul before she was even <em>born</em>.)</p>
<p><em>But that doesn't mean I don't have a gift for you</em>.</p>
<p>Her teasing tone practically begged Lily to ask, <em>What is it?</em></p>
<p><em>It's a </em>surprise<em>. And also likely to be rather painful. Metamorphosis does tend to be. So run off and explore the Infinite, I'll let you know when it's time to come back to your body.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Wait...what?</em>
</p>
<p>Persephone's response was to reach out to her, the image of her in Lily's mind taking her by the hand and tugging her forward, out of her body with an odd <em>pop</em> more felt than heard, and into what she had, until that very moment, thought was just an imagined mind-scape-like dream-space — and not a very complex one at that, just Kore's form surrounded by swirling mists of light and wisps of shadow, standing (or apparently standing) on nothing.</p>
<p>
  <em>Well, it is, I'm just much bigger than you.</em>
</p>
<p>So...she was...in Death's mind?</p>
<p><em>No, you're just </em>in Death<em>. Magic. Everything. </em>Mind <em>implies a </em>body<em>, and such physical constraints are entirely foreign to a metaphysical consciousness. What did you </em>think <em>was on the other side of the Veil?</em></p>
<p>She turned back, almost startled (she thought she would have been startled, if everything weren't so...<em>distant</em>, today) to see her body smirking at her, wreathed in blue flames. She couldn't <em>feel</em> it at <em>all</em>. <em>Are you possessing me?</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Yes, rather like you possess your little Nyx. Nyx finds her namesake adorable, by the way.</em>
</p>
<p>Well, of <em>course</em> she would, kitty-Nyx was a cute fucking cat. And Lily was <em>pretty sure</em> that meant she didn't have <em>any</em> connection to her body right now, but Persephone was keeping it alive in the absence of even a trace of Lily's soul to animate it. <em>Are you also sustaining kitty-Nyx?</em> Because Lily was going to be kind of annoyed if her little foray into Death ended up killing her familiar more permanently this time.</p>
<p>Exasperated amusement surrounded her. "Yes, Lily, I'm keeping your cat alive," Persephone said — aloud, with Lily's lips. That was just bloody <em>weird</em>. Hadn't she <em>just said</em> that bodies were completely foreign to gods? Lily's own face laughed at her. "I've been around for a long time, silly girl. You're hardly the first mortal whose body I've borrowed for a night or two. And you <em>did</em> offer."</p>
<p>Well, <em>yes</em>, but she'd kind of thought that they'd be in Lily's body <em>together</em>, not...switching places.</p>
<p>"We haven't <em>switched places</em>." <em>Your body could not possibly contain all that I am.</em> "And in the context of this ritual, only as much of me may cross the Veil as the energy of Life you gave to me."</p>
<p><em>So, in order for </em>you <em>to take my place, in my world, I have to come here?</em></p>
<p>Lily's head nodded. "An equal exchange, your soul crossing over, and so allowing an equal part of <em>me</em> to do so as well."</p>
<p>...Oh.</p>
<p><em>You'll just have to spend time with me in </em>my <em>world, rather than your own — how disappointing</em>.</p>
<p>Wait. Did that mean... <em>I get to explore Death, while you do...whatever you're doing to me?</em></p>
<p>Kore sniggered. "Unless you wanted to watch me and make sure I don't get up to anything you don't approve of in your body."</p>
<p><em>No, I trust you. </em>She just hoped Persephone didn't do anything that would get her arrested or something. Or, if she did, that she would somehow prove to the authorities that she wasn't <em>actually Lily</em> before they switched back and Lily had to deal with the consequences.</p>
<p><em>Good choice. I mean, people would </em>kill <em>for the opportunity to flit around the Void for a few hours, form a first-hand impression of Infinite Eternity.</em> (Ooh, good point...) <em>And no, I was thinking I might go introduce your face to a handful of people I've been meaning to have a chat with for some time now.</em></p>
<p>
  <em>...Right. Can you at least make sure I remember whoever you end up threatening while using my face? You know, so I know why they hate me if I ever run into them as myself?</em>
</p>
<p>"I suppose. Now, go on, have fun. I'll send you home when it's done." She stepped away from the hole in the veil, disappearing from the flickering blue flames with a wicked grin. <em>So, my little priestess. Is there anything in particular you want to see? Anywhere you want to go?</em></p>
<p>If Lily had had a physical body at the moment, she would have been grinning, she thought, and bouncing on her toes like a small child as possibilities began to occur to her. <em>All that lives is yours, right? And the Dead know all? Is that just </em>human <em>dead? Or can we go see what happened to the fae? Or, could I be a dragon? I always wanted to know what it felt like to fly on my own. Or we could visit other versions of </em>me<em>, right? In other universes and timelines? Or, ooh! The moon! Muggles have been to the moon! Or we could go to the future! Do we ever figure out flying cars? I bet there are flying cars...</em></p>
<hr/>
<p>In all honesty, I don't remember much of that night. Much like the Witnesses dancing with the Dead, it all seems like a dream, or a series of them, half-remembered flashes of images and feeling.</p>
<p>I know I did step foot on the moon, heart pounding, breath loud in my ears, so excited — Armstrong couldn't stop grinning, taking those first careful, bouncing steps — almost the exact same feeling I had realising that I could go <em>anywhere</em>, see <em>anything</em>, in fact. Awe and delight, all the more brilliant in the wake of the fear that was something going wrong as they landed.</p>
<p>And I did see the far-off future of a world — not <em>this</em> world, I don't think — entirely covered by an enormous city, sky-scrapers so built up it was hard to imagine there was anything left of the planet beneath them, hovercrafts zipping around at a dozen levels, while the person — not human — simply went about his daily business, every bit of it perfectly ordinary and unimpressive to him.</p>
<p>I didn't get to be a dragon (I don't think), but I did echo the memory of a little winged fae girl, leaping into the air on her first flight, her wings fluttering desperately to catch herself, exalting in her success when she caught an updraft, raising her back into the sky, sun hot on her back and her family all around her cheering her on, recognising her as an <em>adult</em>.</p>
<p>I watched the Wizengamot vote to enact the Statute of Secrecy from the eyes of my many-times-great-uncle, a William who was, at the time, the head of the house of Gaunt, and lived through the terrible, bloody war that followed — far more families than I had ever imagined died resisting the division between their mages and everyone else.</p>
<p>I tried <em>very</em> hard to grasp how Death experiences time, and all the dimensions beyond my own, and failed <em>miserably</em>.</p>
<p>And my memories of what Kore did with my body while I was out are similarly vague and fuzzy.</p>
<p>I know she popped down to Cokeworth and paid Tobias Snape a visit — it was one of the most difficult things I've ever done, keeping my mouth shut about that until Sev got a letter from home breaking the news that his father had died of a heart attack. (<em>What</em> a pity.)</p>
<p>She stopped at the Bookshop to have a drink and play a game of chess with Anomos. The look on his face when he realised Death Herself was visiting him is one I will never forget — not fear, or awe, just surprise, maybe a little gladness for the company. He invited her in and they caught up on what had to have been the last <em>century</em> or two, Persephone taunting him with hints about the future as he played her to a draw. And then as she was taking her leave, "<em>Penelope's still waiting for you, you know,"</em> which has one very specific implication that Odysseus never has confirmed or denied, at least to <em>me</em>. <em>("I'll see you when I see you, Kore. Safe travels.")</em></p>
<p>She spent an hour or two at St. Mungo's, meandering through the rooms of those caught in the Veil and suffering, easing their passage, the staff apparently blind to her presence. (Though they definitely knew <em>something</em> was going on — half a dozen patients, even critical cases, dying within an hour of each other simply isn't natural.)</p>
<p>She answered the call of three different necromancers — traditional ones, their faces hidden by funeral veils, calling out to her with sacrifices and begging her favour — mostly to tell them they were trying <em>way</em> too hard. Only one of them recognised her immediately. The others were furious to have their Samhain celebrations ruined by some random girl wandering into a place she <em>really</em> shouldn't be, as though the wards they'd set were of no consequence at all. (They weren't. She might not be able to just <em>walk through them</em> in a human body, but Death is perfectly capable of circumventing mortal magic by mortal means, and <em>I</em> didn't need to know how to crack their wards for her to use me to do it.)</p>
<p>The one who recognised her she granted a boon — that I don't remember at all, because it's none of my business, just that she did <em>something</em> before she called on the third one.</p>
<p>But before any of <em>that</em>, she had a little chat with Thom, and <em>that</em> I remember <em>much</em> more clearly.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Death stepped out of the fire, throwing a smirk across the circle to the spot where she <em>knew</em> he stood, the arrogant <em>arse</em> who had the temerity to not only attempt to hide from her, but then to <em>brag</em> about it, boasting to his followers that he was able to defy her with impunity. The Bones girl hurried toward her, around the circle — she and the other anchor, the Rosier boy, had resisted being pulled into the Dance in their concern for her newest priestess. Sweet, if entirely unnecessary.</p>
<p>Little Amelia hesitated as she came close enough to see Lily's face, coming to a halt beside Evan. Her eyes would be glowing, Death expected. They did have a tendency to do so, instinctively bleeding off power to avoid overchannelling when Lily accidentally pulled more magic into herself than she could easily control. It was actually a bit of a problem, the girl's innate expectations for her own abilities being so out of sync with her <em>actual</em> abilities. She simply felt, on a very fundamental level, that she <em>should</em> be able to channel more magic than she safely <em>could</em>. Especially since that <em>ridiculous</em> dedication of hers — giving her soul a greater affinity for polarised energy, making it easier to pull magic into herself, did <em>absolutely nothing</em> to improve her body's physical tolerance to such power.</p>
<p><em>That</em> was the sort of thing which required a much deeper alteration of one's fundamental identity — there was a reason excess metaphagy was dangerous, and so few humans chose to do as the Blacks had done, asking for power beyond any they were ever meant to hold in exchange for their service. It was impossible to change the human body to accommodate that wish without causing some degree of physical brain damage, which underlay the traditional sacrifice of their "humanity" — that was <em>literally</em> the <em>least</em> destructive way to alter them. (Of course, the Dark hadn't <em>told</em> them that, and even if it had the particular Blacks who had made that sacrifice likely would have considered it a fair trade.) <em>Most</em> humans, when told that, <em>yes, I can give you inhuman power, but I'm going to have to literally melt part of your brain and restructure it</em>, said <em>never mind</em>.</p>
<p>Metaphages could do something similar slowly enough that they had time to compensate and recover, but they often didn't realise the necessity of doing so and ended up self-destructing, making too many deep changes to their fundamental <em>selves</em> too quickly. Tom Riddle, still alive and as sane as he ever was, even after putting himself through a series of such rituals as a young man, was an exception, not the rule.</p>
<p>Re-making Lily's body enough that her channelling capacity actually matched the power she felt she <em>ought</em> to be able to wield, though, wasn't nearly so extreme, especially since she'd already come into her power. After all, she only acted as though she should be capable of channelling slightly more power than the average mage in this day and age. Not, say, a seven-year-old saying <em>oh, yes, I'd like to grow up to be a sorceress with enough power to match any other mortal in Britain, and in the meanwhile would you mind putting me on even footing with the average adult in my House, please and thank you with a cherry on top. </em>(Young Eris was an impulsive little twit, she was lucky none of her Bellatrices had died when she altered them.) Lily didn't even feel as though she ought to be able to channel as much magic as <em>Aster</em> over there — definitely doable, with no long-term damage.</p>
<p>It did kind of <em>hurt</em>, but there was no cause for Amelia and Evan to be so concerned.</p>
<p>"Lily...are you okay?" the girl asked, only to be corrected by the boy immediately: "Apparently her name is actually Asphodel. Er...what she said, though?"</p>
<p>"You know she doesn't want you to call her Asphodel," Death informed him. "Not yet. And she's fine. She's currently on the moon. She'll be back by morning."</p>
<p>The Bones girl gave a tiny <em>eep</em> — not surprising that she'd put it together more quickly, her family <em>did</em> stand a bit closer to Death than most. "My Lady! I, um, we didn't expect you to, er—"</p>
<p>She stuttered to a halt, allowing the boy, his fear tamped down under a sanguine façade, to greet her as well. "My Lady. Would you mind telling Evans for me that she's a twat, and it's poor form to alter a ritual like that without even <em>telling us</em> what she's planning? Cheers."</p>
<p>"I'm sure it will be much more satisfying for you to tell her yourself, tomorrow. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a bone to pick with a certain Dark Lord over a certain <em>nom de guerre</em>." She slipped past them before either could respond, making for the trio of Witnesses — Riddle, his pet Bellatrix, and Lily's little mind mage — who had likewise resisted the ritual, instead simply observing from the edge of the trees — out of the way, but still close enough to talk to the occasional spirit meandering out of the Dance.</p>
<p>They fled at her approach, leaving the humans to face her wrath alone. The only one of <em>those</em> who apparently found her presence in any way threatening was the little mind mage — Severus. He turned to face her, bowing slightly jerkily. "My Lady Persephone."</p>
<p>"Percy! How <em>are</em> you? It's been <em>ages</em>! I would say I'm surprised to see you, but you always did have a thing for redheads, didn't you?" the witch teased, grinning like the lunatic she <em>absolutely</em> was.</p>
<p>Death sighed. "Bellatrix." Even the ones who were only <em>distantly</em> in contact with Eris were annoying. No, strike that, <em>those</em> Bellatrices were <em>especially</em> annoying — Eris herself had <em>far</em> more respect for Death, it tended to carry over to the ones she was closest to.</p>
<p>Riddle gave her a far politer greeting: a more confident bow and the words, "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, my Lady?"</p>
<p>She clicked Lily's tongue impatiently. "See, I don't get that. <em>You</em>, unlike your pet, make an effort to be polite to me <em>in person</em>, but otherwise insult me left and right. And I'm here to have a <em>word</em> with you, Tom Marvolo Riddle." She conjured the letters of his name in the air as she spoke, rearranging them as he had done as a schoolboy to invent the phrase <em>I am Lord Voldemort</em>.</p>
<p>"Ah," the man said, swallowing hard.</p>
<p>"It's a bloody <em>anagram</em>?" Bellatrix laughed. "Well. I'm sure that seemed <em>very</em> clever when you were <em>twelve</em>. No wonder you don't like the Knights to use it."</p>
<p>Riddle glared at her briefly, before attempting to excuse himself. "It's true, my Lady, I did invent the name in a fit of youthful fancy. I have never intended any offence by it and, as Bella says, I've since come to see that it's a ridiculous name, born of childish fear and hubris. I most humbly beg your forgiveness for my slight against you and your realm—"</p>
<p>"Oh, stuff it, Tom. Do I <em>look</em> like I'm buying it?" she snapped, assuming a disdainful, cross-armed pose. "If you <em>truly</em> regretted your hubris, you wouldn't still go around telling your people that you've made yourself immune to my touch. You <em>do</em> realise that every day I <em>don't</em> smite you for that heresy is another day the idea that such a thing is possible is allowed to take root and grow in the minds of your followers and foes alike, do you not?"</p>
<p>"I— Surely the pitiful boasts of a single human man are as nothing to the Ultimate Inevitability," the idiot said, looking <em>entirely</em> nonplussed about her annoyance.</p>
<p>"The most dangerous strangling kudzu vine grows from a single seed, Riddle, <em>especially</em> when you go using mind magic to make them <em>believe </em>your pitiful boasts! I <em>will not</em> have you undermining my authority in this matter regardless of how impotent you believe yourself to be!"</p>
<p>The infuriating legilimens looked to be suppressing a smirk. What the <em>fuck</em> was so funny?! "Yes, my Lady."</p>
<p>"You <em>do</em> realise that he's only going to be <em>more</em> insufferable now that you've pointed out that he has even greater influence on the universe than he thought, right?" Bellatrix asked, through giggles she <em>entirely failed</em> to suppress. She probably hadn't even tried.</p>
<p>"I really don't <em>care</em> how insufferable he is to the rest of you. Either <em>you</em> stop the spread of this madness, or I will. <em>Terminally</em>. By which, to be abso-fucking-lutely crystal here, I mean your newly discovered daughter — the one whose birth I arranged <em>specifically</em> to be the instrument of your destruction, should you force my hand — has just dedicated herself to my service. I can and will use her to destroy you, horcruxes and all." The little legilimens made a sort of <em>gak</em> sound, choking on his own fearful intake of breath, but Riddle and his Bellatrix sobered significantly. "Yes, that's right, I know about the horcruxes. And the rituals to make your body impervious to mortal damage. <em>And</em> those to protect it from the natural corruption of age and illness.</p>
<p>"I don't <em>give</em> a fuck! I'm warning you now because there <em>are</em> parts of me that like you, but if you don't <em>knock it off</em>, <em>I</em> will knock <em>you</em> off."</p>
<p>Bellatrix snorted. Riddle glared at her. "What? It was a good pun, you know it was."</p>
<p>"Excuse me if I can't take the threat of my imminent demise as lightly as you."</p>
<p>"Oh, calm down, my Lord. If Death actually <em>wanted you dead</em>, you would already <em>be</em> dead. I mean, I'm <em>good</em>, but not good enough to stop an assassin tasked by Death Itself to take you out. So, you stop compelling people to believe you're immortal, maybe even make them forget you ever said as much, she lets you live, and all of your precautions serve to protect you from mortal threats, and you get to live as long as you want to, in spite of <em>everyone else's</em> attempts to kill you. We don't need the Immortal Dark Lord propaganda <em>that</em> much...or at all, really. I mean, your reputation is already sufficiently well-established that losing this detail is hardly likely to impact it. Yes?"</p>
<p>Death nodded. She <em>would</em> give the Blacks this much: they were at least very rational, when faced with the sort of situation which would make even the most cool-headed of ritualists falter. Give them a problem, they would find a solution. In this case, giving Death <em>exactly</em> what she demanded of them, because what other reasonable alternative did Riddle <em>have</em>? "He <em>will</em> be mine in the end, of course, but I can wait. I have all the time in the world. What are a few centuries, or even millennia, compared to <em>eternity</em>?"</p>
<p>Honestly, she kind of appreciated having a <em>few</em> so-called Immortals around. The spark of an average human soul was so brief and fleeting, they hardly had any time at all to develop their stories, instead just living variations on the same few themes again and again... But that wasn't at all the same as allowing them to — consciously or not — affect the collective perception of Death and its role in Life. <em>Some</em> things needed to remain constant, and Death was one of them.</p>
<p>To give Riddle his due, he <em>did</em> manage to recover fairly quickly. "Of course, my Lady. I understand. I will endeavor to right my offence at once."</p>
<p>She took another step toward him, close enough to jab him in the chest with one of Lily's long, thin fingers. "See that you do! Or <em>else</em>!"</p>
<p>Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "So, what are you giving our little Asphodel in exchange for her acting as the metaphorical knife at Thom's neck?"</p>
<p>Death grinned at her. "Ah, well, seeing as you're so very set on making her a member of your House, I thought I'd stick with something traditional. Though not, perhaps, so extreme."</p>
<p>"Oh! Speaking of which, come here a second!" the Black demanded, slicing the tip of her index finger with a silent, wandless charm.</p>
<p>Death sighed at her, but moved near enough to let her sketch a few runes on Lily's forehead. "You know, there's a fine line between <em>prepared</em> and <em>paranoid</em>."</p>
<p>"Yes, well, we mere mortals don't really have the perspective to see which side of the line we're on, and besides, extending legal protection to your idiot daughter when she outs herself as the child of the greatest mortal enemies of the most politically powerful man in Britain is not paranoia. It's <em>insurance</em>."</p>
<p>Death gave her a slightly amused snorted. "Uh-<em>huh</em>. Well, go on, then. I do have places to be tonight."</p>
<p>"<em>Tch</em>, so <em>impatient</em>..."</p>
<p>(<em>Cheeky brat</em>.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. A Simple Ethical Problem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The conversations and consequences which followed in the wake of Samhain 1976 were largely unimportant so far as the large-scale impact of any particular event goes, but as far as the formation and solidification of relationships between the Founders of New Avalon, and those who would eventually become...let's say key motivators in its establishment — the people who stringently <em>opposed</em> our interests, but in so doing, pushed us only further in our efforts — they were absolutely essential.</p>
<p>My inevitable return to the House of Black and Asphodel's adoption into it;</p>
<p>The relationship between myself and Asphodel taking on the characteristics which would define it throughout the course of the Founding Years;</p>
<p>The revelation that the House of Black, long on the brink of collapse under the neglectful "leadership" of Arcturus Sirius, might yet have a future with Narcissa at its helm;</p>
<p>The (admittedly disastrous) decision on my part to undertake the negotiation of a diplomatic resolution to the War;</p>
<p>The increasing certitude among certain individuals that I'd lost my bloody mind again...</p>
<p>Yes, as painful as it may be to recall the dissolution of our relationship, we need to talk about James.</p>
<hr/>
<p>"Jamie!"</p>
<p>James flinched, looking up from his breakfast with an...almost scared expression? Horrified, maybe, and also possibly a bit <em>ill</em>. He looked <em>exhausted</em>, like he hadn't slept <em>at all</em> after the Dance had ended. Evans, de Mort, and Bella were all gone when Aster came back to herself, but Snape had filled her in on the shite she'd missed on their way back up to the school. The idea of de Mort being shouted at by Death Itself via Lily fucking Evans was bloody <em>hilarious</em>, but she hadn't managed to convince Bat-boy to share the memory. (She somehow doubted de Mort would be willing to do so, which was a fucking <em>shame</em>.)</p>
<p>Evans had dragged herself back to the Tower around dawn, all silly and elated, babbling about the bloody moon and flying automobiles, but practically asleep on her feet. She'd passed out without even taking off her robes, which Walburga would <em>definitely</em> have screamed at her for — one simply didn't <em>lie down</em> in formal dress robes. Even <em>sitting</em> was generally frowned upon. But Aster wasn't really planning on wearing that thing any time soon any more today than she had been last night, so who cared if it got wrinkles smashed into it? She hadn't bothered undressing the mad ritualist, just left her to sleep it off with her stupid undead cat. She was probably going to miss morning classes, but it was just Potions today. Slughorn wouldn't question it if Aster told him Evans hadn't been feeling well.</p>
<p>She was <em>far</em> more concerned about Jamie. He'd been <em>really</em> out of it, after the ritual — shocky, almost. Quiet and confused, stumbling after Aster and Snape and Evan and Reg as though he wasn't sure whether this was the real world or not. Understandable, the visions and memories experienced in the Dance were <em>really</em> vivid, and she was pretty sure Jamie wouldn't have been taught proper grounding techniques any more than Evans. She imagined that could make it difficult to tell the difference. And Aster voluntarily speaking to Snape and her brother probably didn't help. She didn't exactly do that <em>often</em>. She had wanted to know what she'd missed, though, and Evan and Reg were bugging Snape about it at the same time, so they'd all kind of ended up walking back to the school together.</p>
<p>Jamie had disappeared up to the boys' room without really saying much of anything, and Aster hadn't really tried to stop him. Even if he had been practically sleepwalking by that point, he was entirely capable of finding his bed by himself. She'd thought it was probably best to give him "time to process" as McKinnon would put it. Not to mention, she was kind of tired herself, and she'd wanted to go write down everything she could remember about the lives she'd witnessed before she completely forgot. She <em>thought</em> she might've been a Russian princess or something for a while, and maybe an author? a poet or playwright, somewhere in France. She didn't think either of them had been mages, there wasn't enough magic around them, thinking back on it, no enchantments or anything, and she hadn't used a wand as either of them...</p>
<p>Anyway, she'd figured that he'd be over whatever his deal was by now. Or, maybe not <em>entirely</em> over it, realising the Powers were real was probably a major revelation, she guessed, but she definitely hadn't thought he'd look as completely wrecked as he still did. Like, <em>taking a double-dose of Sober-Up when you've been drinking since dinner the night before because you have to go sit a runes exam and it's totally not your fault you forgot about it, there was a party and keeping track of shite like that is Remus's job, you're just in it for the excuse to enchant a motorbike</em> wrecked. It was...kind of concerning.</p>
<p>"Hey, Siri– Aster, I mean." Gods and Powers, he even <em>sounded</em> exhausted. "I, look, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want to talk to you right now."</p>
<p>"Are you okay?"</p>
<p>"What? Yes, I'm <em>fine</em>. Just because I can't deal with you being all <em>awake</em> and <em>bouncy</em> and <em>Sirius bloody Black</em> today doesn't mean there's something wrong with me."</p>
<p>"Contrary to popular belief, I <em>am </em>capable of refraining from being an obnoxious twat," she informed him, clambering onto the bench. "Occasionally. For people I like. Pass the bacon?"</p>
<p>He did, but then he stood up, shouldered his bag, and headed toward the main doors.</p>
<p>"Hey!" She took the time to grab a few rashers and wrap a muffin in a napkin before chasing after him. "What the <em>hell?!"</em></p>
<p>"I told you, I don't want to talk to you, Sirius!"</p>
<p>"Too fucking bad. Just because you don't want me to be my usual charmingly enthusiastic self around you when you feel like shite doesn't mean there <em>isn't</em> something wrong with you, either, and you look like you were dragged through at least five of the seven hells last night. I'm worried about you."</p>
<p>"Well, <em>don't</em> be!" He glared down at her for a moment before stalking away again.</p>
<p>"Can't. This will be much easier on both of us if you stop running away like a little bitch and tell me what's wrong."</p>
<p>"What <em>isn't</em> wrong, Sirius?!"</p>
<p>"Um...muffins? Quidditch? Sleep? You really look like you could use some, in case that wasn't clear from the <em>you look like several hells </em>comment. Or at least some coffee. Apparently there's actually <em>good</em> coffee, you just have to ask the elves for it special, or steal it from the High Table."</p>
<p>"<em>Ugh!</em> Can't you just <em>stop</em>—" He cut himself off, shoved her bodily into the empty classroom on her left. "<em>Everything</em> is wrong!" he spat, following. "The bird I fancy is apparently a <em>psychotic bloody necromancer</em>; my best mate—"</p>
<p>Oh, shite. Aster threw a couple of anti-eavesdropping charms up. She hadn't expected Jamie to just start shouting about Evans being a bloody necromancer, like there weren't people in the school who would take that the wrong way.</p>
<p>James didn't even pause, his tirade, if anything, gaining steam. "—turned himself into a <em>girl</em> and apparently doesn't have any moral compass to speak of; the fucking <em>Dark Lord</em> tried to give me advice on <em>dating his daughter</em>; Bellatrix thinks <em>I'm</em> at fault for <em>you</em> being a bloody <em>crazy person</em>; and to top it all off, I think I was <em>possessed</em> last night! And no one seems to think that's, you know, kind of a <em>big deal</em>— That was <em>black magic</em>, Sirius! I– I– I was <em>tricked</em> into doing <em>black magic</em>! And— You didn't say that was going to happen, with the ghosts, or whatever they were!"</p>
<p>"Er...didn't I?" Actually, thinking back on it, she might not have. She knew she'd mentioned the Dance, but she might not have explained exactly what was supposed to happen. "Oops. Sorry. But no one's acting like it's a big deal because it's <em>not</em>. It's—"</p>
<p>"You don't think <em>anything</em> is a big deal, Sirius! You <em>turned yourself into a girl</em>, and didn't think it was a big deal! Excuse me if I don't exactly trust <em>your</em> judgment, here!"</p>
<p>Aster restrained herself from snapping that her being a girl <em>wasn't</em> a big deal. (With difficulty.) "Don't be thick, James, of course there are things I think are a big deal. But the Samhain ritual really isn't. I mean, do you think that Dumbledore would let us do it if it were really illegal? He'd <em>love</em> to have an excuse to get rid of all the holiday rituals."</p>
<p>"Well, I don't <em>know</em>, Sirius! Maybe it <em>is</em> really illegal, and he <em>can't</em> stop it — he <em>ran away</em> last night! <em>Dumbledore!"</em></p>
<p>Oh. Right. And for someone who had been raised to think that Albus Dumbledore was fucking perfect, seeing him <em>scuttle away</em> all unnerved as he had was probably a bit of a blow to that image. "Yeah, and it was funny as hell. Probably not as funny as Persephone telling off de Mort for claiming to be immortal and threatening to use Evans to murder him if he doesn't knock it off, but Snape wouldn't share the memory, so I can't say for sure."</p>
<p>"<em>And that's another thing!</em> Since when are you friends with <em>Snivellus?!"</em> he demanded, sounding practically hysterical.</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes at him, because, <em>really</em>? <em>Friend</em> was <em>not</em> a word she would use to describe Severus Snape. Just because she'd promised to call him <em>Snape</em> instead of Snivels (which really wasn't a terribly onerous gesture of apology, so far as such things went) didn't mean she <em>liked</em> him. "We're not friends, he's just the <em>less</em> creepy of my new roommate's pets — apparently that evil little moggy of hers is undead."</p>
<p>"<em>WHAT?!"</em></p>
<p>"I know, right? Who even <em>does</em> that, reanimating a bloody <em>cat</em>... And she lets it <em>sleep on my pillow</em>! Disgusting thing... Anyway, I was saying, <em>everyone</em> bows to Death. Well, everyone but Evans, but she's a fucking freak. Dumbledore making himself scarce when It seriously started in on him isn't at <em>all</em> surprising. I mean, you can't <em>really</em> have expected him to try to <em>force</em> both Bella and the bloody Dark Lord to piss off, with Death guilt-tripping him over his sister's death — <em>i.e.</em>, making it clear that It's not going to be on his side, if it comes to a fight — and a hundred or so innocent students around to be collateral damage if he <em>did</em> start something. Retreating was really his only option. It wasn't just cowardice, or whatever you're thinking.</p>
<p>"And the Witnesses' role in the Samhain ritual is <em>barely</em> high magic. Yes, you were possessed by the spirits of the Dead, but they weren't hurting you or anyone else, just sharing a few of their memories with you. It's not like you were tricked into doing anything <em>bad</em>, I'm sure Dorea's done it, and I didn't mean to trick you anyway, I just wanted you to come and see that Evans is <em>definitely</em> a dark witch."</p>
<p>"Yeah, well, <em>congratulations</em>, mission accomplished, I can't <em>believe</em> I spent <em>years</em>— And she was evil the whole time?!"</p>
<p>"Wait, what?" Shite! <em>No</em>, that wasn't what she'd wanted him to think <em>at all!</em> <em>She</em> might use "evil" to casually describe Evans and Transfiguration exams and bludgers that didn't want to go where she'd aimed them, but Jamie <em>invariably</em> meant "evil" like <em>Bellatrix</em> was evil. And Evans might be creepy as hell, but she wasn't really what Aster would consider a <em>danger</em> to people. See Aster being comfortable sleeping in her room without warding her bed or some shite.</p>
<p>"You're the one who said she's a bloody <em>necromancer!</em> And you've been telling me she's an evil, manipulative bitch for <em>years</em>!"</p>
<p>"Well, <em>yeah</em>, and I'm not saying Evans <em>isn't</em> a soulless, manipulative, unfeeling bitch, but that really has nothing to do with her thing with Persephone. That's just, you know, <em>her personality</em>."</p>
<p>"No, she's just <em>insane</em>, thinking a fucking <em>god</em> talks to her — gods <em>don't exist</em>, Sirius!" How could he go to the Samhain ritual, and <em>still</em> insist that gods didn't exist?! "<em>And</em> she's really de Mort's daughter?!"</p>
<p>"Okay, first off, gods <em>definitely exist</em>, and I'm definitely writing to Dorea and telling her you think they don't, because I know for a <em>fact</em> she knows they do. They would've forced her to do all the same rituals I did growing up. Secondly, yes, she's de Mort's daughter, and yes, they do have a <em>lot</em> in common, but she's not <em>evil</em>—"</p>
<p>"<em>Why are you defending her?!"</em></p>
<p>"Well, if you'd stop interrupting and let me fucking talk, I'd tell you! It's not like she goes around killing people for fun, or does human sacrifice rituals, or turns people into puppets and tortures them, or started a war to get Britain to give her a bloody island! <em>Me</em> calling her evil is just me being hyperbolic as usual. <em>You</em> calling her evil means you think she's just as bad as <em>they</em> are, and she's really, really not. Like, on a scale of evil, manipulative people, she's closer to Cissy than de Mort. And," she added, realising it even as she said the words, "<em>you</em> thinking she's <em>actually evil</em> means you're probably going to do something really, <em>really</em> stupid, like try to turn her in as a black mage or some shite—"</p>
<p>"Well, why shouldn't I!" <em>Because it's just </em>not on<em>?</em> Seriously, she couldn't imagine why he would think that was okay! You didn't just <em>go around</em> turning people over for being closer to Magic than <em>you </em>were comfortable with! (That was like...some kind of sacrilege, or something!) "She <em>is</em>, you said it yourself, she's a <em>bloody necromancer</em>, she's <em>dangerous</em>, and obviously <em>insane</em>, and—"</p>
<p><em>And what am I, Jamie?</em> Did Dorea never teach him the difference between <em>potentially</em> dangerous and <em>actually</em> dangerous? But the fact that that position held all sorts of terrible implications about Jamie's opinions about crazy people in general wasn't the most important issue, at the moment. "And if you try to get her Kissed and chucked through the Veil, Bella and de Mort will rescue her, and I definitely am <em>not</em> good enough to stop Bella killing you for endangering <em>her daughter</em> — which she <em>definitely will</em>. The fact that they only met <em>yesterday</em> matters exactly <em>zero</em>, because Bellatrix is <em>insane</em>, and <em>you</em> are not on the List!"</p>
<p>"<em>Her</em> dau— Wait, list? What <em>list?"</em></p>
<p>"The list of People Bella Doesn't Want Dead — Evans is on it; you're not." Granted, Aster wasn't <em>entirely</em> certain who was and wasn't on the list anymore, but Bella didn't like James, she thought he was a bad influence, so he probably wasn't. And she <em>did</em> like Evans — or rather, Asphodel de Mort, so. If Jamie tried to get Evans executed, Aster had no doubt that Bella would retaliate.</p>
<p>Jamie's eyes narrowed dangerously. "And you think the solution to that is just keep my head down and do whatever the fuck she wants?"</p>
<p>"Well, seeing as I don't want you <em>dead</em>, <em>yes</em>! And quite frankly, I don't think it's unreasonable to declare a handful of people to be unacceptable targets."</p>
<p>"<em>Children</em> are unacceptable targets, Sirius! Bloody <em>necromancers</em> are <em>not!"</em></p>
<p>"We're not talking about <em>necromancers in general</em> — though necromancers are about the <em>least</em> offensive black mages <em>ever</em>—" Seriously, most necromancers were just...<em>boring</em>. "—we're talking about <em>Evans specifically</em>. Her precious Master's newly discovered daughter, the one she offered to <em>adopt</em> less than two hours after meeting her! Besides, what happened to Evans not knowing what she was doing? being a poor little ignorant muggleborn?"</p>
<p>"Well, obviously I was <em>wrong</em>! Fucking rub it in, why don't you!"</p>
<p>"If I weren't so concerned you were going to do something <em>terminally stupid</em>, I probably <em>would</em>. Evans just <em>being a necromancer</em> isn't hurting anyone, reporting her would do about as much good for anyone else as reporting <em>me</em> for apparating without a license or underage drinking, except with a death sentence instead of a fucking fine."</p>
<p>"What happened to you trusting my judgement, Sirius?"</p>
<p>Low. Fucking. Blow. Aster glared at him. "You told me not to, and survival is <em>always</em> a higher priority than morality, everyone knows that!" Even <em>Evans</em> knew that, and she was a bloody muggleborn!</p>
<p>"According to <em>who</em>? <em>Salazar</em> bloody <em>Slytherin</em>?"</p>
<p>...Actually, she didn't know where that principle came from. She assumed it had been around longer than Bella, since Walburga had occasionally mentioned keeping one's priorities in the proper order, too. And practically the whole bloody House <em>had</em> been in Slytherin, the ones who'd gone to Hogwarts anyway, so... "Maybe? Honestly, I thought it was just common knowledge. The survival of the House is the first priority; then your own survival; then following the commands of your Head of House; the survival of other members of the House; the survival of clients and allies, and members of those Houses; fulfilling any other vows the House has made to clients or allies; then any vows <em>you've</em> made, personally, to the House, individual members of the House, clients, allies, and outsiders, in that order... There's about a dozen more points, but personal preferences, including moral obligations to snuff out relatively inoffensive ritualists for having the temerity to <em>exist</em>, even when they haven't done anything to you, your House, clients, allies, or anyone at all really, are all the way at the end of the list. Your opinion on whether it's right or wrong to report Evans is irrelevant, because one choice results in your death and the other doesn't."</p>
<p>Jamie just stared at her for a <em>long</em> moment. "That's... That's ridiculous! Someone actually <em>taught</em> you that, like, a rule?"</p>
<p>Was it ridiculous? It seemed pretty reasonable to <em>her</em>. Maybe he just meant actually having it spelled out like that, this could be one of those things like relationship boundaries that normal people didn't think needed to be explicitly stated. "Well, <em>yes</em>, obviously... You mean no one ever taught you what your priorities are supposed to be?"</p>
<p>"Um...not like <em>that</em>, like a bloody <em>list</em>, just— What about thinking for yourself?!"</p>
<p>...Obviously you had to work out how specific situations should be interpreted and therefore what your immediate and long-term objectives were for yourself, but she didn't <em>think</em> that was what Jamie meant. It was <em>too</em> obvious. "What about it? I don't understand."</p>
<p>"What if you <em>wanted</em> to, I don't know, put fulfilling your vows ahead of your own survival?"</p>
<p>"If you're that serious about a vow, you swear it on your life or your magic, so they're the same thing. Or do you mean like marrying out? Obviously there are different priorities, then, because your relationship with the House changes. Same for swearing fealty to another individual, like Bella did with de Mort. And if you really want to, you can say fuck it — it's not like you're <em>compelled</em> to follow those priorities. But it's not something to do lightly." There was a reason it was kind of a big deal when Nash and Danny followed Bella into the War. "Like when I broke the Family Magic over the summer — damaging the foundations of the House itself goes against what <em>should</em> have been my top priority, if I were being a good little Black. I fully expected to get disowned over it, because I was acting like I was already outside of the House."</p>
<p>Jamie was blinking again, slightly open-mouthed.</p>
<p>"<em>What?"</em></p>
<p>"It's just— You— How can you <em>live</em> like that?"</p>
<p>"Er...I think it's pretty straightforward?" That was kind of the entire point. Being generally unambiguous and decisive, especially in situations where you had to make decisions <em>right now</em>, not sit around and dither over them for hours...</p>
<p>James ran his fingers through his hair, clearly frustrated. "No, I mean, what about trying to be a good person? What about doing what's right, even at your own expense? Holding life sacred, and protecting the weak, and upholding laws and civil order and– and <em>honour</em> and <em>fairness</em>, and—"</p>
<p><em>Urgh</em>, she knew <em>exactly</em> what she <em>should</em> say to that (what <em>any</em> of her cousins would say, not just Bella) — <em>everybody has to die sometime; fuck the weak, we protect our </em>own<em>; laws are for other people; blind adherence to civil order promotes stagnation; that chivalric dragonshite you call honour gets you killed; and fairness? is that a joke? or are you actually delusional? </em>— but that would be completely unhelpful as an answer to a legitimate question, which she kind of thought that was. "That's all personal preference. When choices aren't life or death, and don't conflict with any vows or obligations, you can do whatever you think is the right thing to do, for whatever reasons. But since this <em>is</em> a life-or-death choice, you don't get that luxury."</p>
<p>"Having moral principles is not a <em>luxury</em>, Sirius! <em>Doing the right thing</em> isn't a luxury!"</p>
<p>Aster groaned. "If you mean doing the right thing like having your priorities in order, doing the advantageous, <em>objectively correct</em> thing, no, it's not. But that's <em>not</em> what you mean, <em>you</em> mean aesthetic shite, like <em>killing is bad</em> and <em>follow the law</em> — except you don't always, and I have no idea how you decide when it's okay not to — and <em>do whatever you're not going to feel bad about later</em>, and—"</p>
<p>"<em>Not killing people</em> is <em>not</em> 'aesthetic shite', Sirius!"</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. "I don't mean you should go around killing people, I'm just saying, if I had to kill someone to protect you—" Jamie opened his mouth, probably to object to her being weirdly obsessed with him, so she added, "—or Dorea, or, I don't know, my partner, assuming the Aurors let me in, or whoever, I might <em>try</em> to find a way to do it without killing — like I wasn't actually trying to kill Snape, there were less extreme ways to remove him from Hogwarts — but if I <em>had</em> to I would, and feeling bad or guilty for doing a <em>bad thing</em> or doing something <em>wrong</em> would be <em>silly</em>. It's aesthetic because the <em>right</em> thing — the correct, advantageous thing — is protecting your allies. How exactly you do it, whether you kill whoever's threatening them or find another way is just...not nearly as important, like a secondary objective in a war game. It might make you happier to do it a certain way, but that's about what <em>you</em> feel is right — harmonious.</p>
<p>"Like Bella was saying last night about taking your word that taking your word for things is <em>wrong</em> — it can be harmonious-right to try to be a good person, adopt your morals and politics, or whatever, but disadvantageous-wrong to follow your lead if you're not sure where you're going. Which, I definitely still trust your judgment on moral shite, but you really, <em>really</em> don't have your priorities in order if you think it's a good idea to report Evans and force Bella to kill you."</p>
<p>Jamie gaped at her. "<em>Force</em> her—?! So, if Bellatrix kills me, it's my fault? What kind of sick, twisted world do you live in?"</p>
<p>"I <em>just</em> explained this! Bella has recognised Evans as de Mort's daughter, and therefore <em>her</em> daughter, i.e. <em>part of her House</em>. If you demonstrate that you pose a lethal threat to a member of her House, she <em>will</em> eliminate that threat — which is the right thing for her to do, objectively. I'm not saying she <em>should </em>kill you, but Bella's preference is to fulfil her obligations as efficiently and effectively as possible, which means she will consider killing you to be a perfectly harmonious option...</p>
<p>"...Which means that if you don't swear <em>not</em> to report Evans, I'm pretty sure I'm obligated to knock you the fuck out and drag you to de Mort to make you forget you found out Evans is a necromancer in the first place."</p>
<p>"You...<em>what?!</em> <em>Sirius</em>, what the <em>hell...</em>?"</p>
<p>"You report Evans, Bella kills you — direct consequence. You're—" <em>basically my liege lord</em> "—an ally, I'm supposed to make sure you don't get yourself killed unless...well, honestly, I'd probably ignore any higher priorities in this case, because I like you a hell of a lot more than anyone in the House, so that's not important. And making sure you stay alive is a hell of a lot more important than your preference for turning in even harmless black mages, and my preference to not piss you off. Therefore, I have to stop you from reporting Evans. And since you're a <em>stubborn fucking bastard</em>, if you don't promise not to tell, I can't <em>trust</em> you not to tell, so forcefully modifying your memory or killing you is pretty much the only way to guarantee you <em>won't</em>, and one of those options would be entirely counterproductive." She <em>thought</em> that last bit went without saying, but just in case.</p>
<p>James's exhausted, hung-over expression of disbelief slowly morphed into horror as she spoke, which was...not good. Not at <em>all</em>. "You're...fucking <em>psychotic</em>, Sirius! Do you even— I need to write Mum. <em>Right now</em>."</p>
<p>She flinched, but refused to back down. <em>This is </em>important<em>, Jamie! "No</em>, you need to swear that you're not going to report Evans, and <em>then</em> you can go write to Dorea. And I'm not psychotic, you're delusional."</p>
<p>"I am <em>not</em> delusional! I— How can you not understand how <em>insane</em> you sound?!"</p>
<p>"How can <em>you</em> not understand that if you threaten Evans you're voluntarily involving yourself in the fucking shit-storm that is the Black–de Mort alliance?! You're walking straight into crazy person territory thinking— Well, I have no idea what you're thinking, but I'm betting at least part of it is <em>Bella wouldn't </em>really <em>kill me</em>. You're <em>wrong</em>. She will. She <em>murders children</em>, James. Children who have done nothing to earn it! She doesn't care that your father is a Lord of the Wizengamot, or that your mother was a Black, or that I <em>love you</em>, she <em>will kill you</em>."</p>
<p>"Okay, I'm leaving now, Sirius," he said firmly, edging toward the door.</p>
<p>Aster blocked it. "Promise me you're not going to report Evans, first!"</p>
<p>"What? No, Sirius, you're being ridiculous! Get out of the way!" he demanded, wand in hand, as though he actually stood a chance of forcing his way past her.</p>
<p>"<em>No</em>, this is for your own good!"</p>
<p>"Don't <em>make</em> me curse y—"</p>
<p>She disarmed him with a quick flick of her wand — they were only a couple of meters apart, he didn't have time to dodge, let alone cast a shield — and a flat glare. "<em>Promise</em>, Jamie."</p>
<p>"<em>Siri</em>..."</p>
<p>"Look, just humour me, <em>please</em>!"</p>
<p>"Fine! Yes! I promise! <em>Now</em>, can I go?"</p>
<p>She stepped aside, gesturing toward the door and presenting his wand to him with a slightly mocking bow. He snatched it with a churlish scowl, as though his being disarmed wasn't <em>entirely</em> his fault, pulling a wand on someone he wasn't prepared to actually hurt.</p>
<p>"Yes. Thank you. That's all I wanted." Well, that wasn't <em>all</em> she had wanted, she'd <em>wanted</em> to make sure he was okay, maybe tell him that it <em>wasn't</em> wrong for her to follow his lead on the whole <em>being a good person</em> front, but making sure that he wasn't going to run off and commit suicide by Bellatrix was also <em>kind of important</em>. Talking about everything <em>else</em> could wait, at least until after he wasn't feeling like complete shite. He'd probably be in a better mood then, anyway.</p>
<p>He stalked past her, watching her warily from the corner of his eye as he did, and immediately turned to head back toward Gryffindor.</p>
<p>"Did you forget we have Potions?"</p>
<p>"Um, no. Tell Slughorn I'm not feeling well or something, I don't care." He hurried away down the corridor without even the briefest farewell, abandoning her to face the horrid tedium of Potions <em>alone</em>. (Maybe she could work with Snape, since Evans wasn't coming either — he'd probably do everything rather than let her ruin his potion. Yes, that sounded like a plan...) Probably actually was going to write Dorea, she figured, but that was fine. Dorea would understand that Aster <em>wasn't</em> actually being insane about this, probably be glad she'd saved her stupid son's arse from getting murdered.</p>
<p>If Aster was really lucky, she'd tell Jamie as much, too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's an inevitable consequence of chapters involving ethical philosophy and codes of conduct and how characters make decisions that at least one reader tries to talk to me about ethics and/or morality. I'm just going to head that off right here by stating for the record that I don't actually know a damn thing about proper philosophical approaches to the subject. (Which is why my characters generally have difficulty discussing these things and expressing their positions clearly. Even when they do have an explicit ethical decision-making paradigm — rather than just *don't do anything you're going to feel guilty about later* — they don't actually have the words to talk about it. Which I don't bother to do anything about, because I think it's realistic that teenagers don't have the words for this shite.)</p>
<p>(As someone who does have the words for these things, Aster's working in a pretty straight-forward consequentialist framework, in the context of a society with competing familial and feudal loyalties, and James is talking classical virtue ethics, though with more modern language. It's self-consistent, they're just both teenagers who haven't thought critically about these things xD —Lysandra)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. A "Secret" Family Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In hindsight, it seems obvious at this point that my return to the fold was inevitable, Light dedication or no, but at the time, that question was far from obviously decided. <em>I</em> certainly didn't consider myself to have turned my back on the Light — I would have said that my arguments for the Dark and their policies and positions were simply me playing Devil's Advocate, and in some cases even a direct consequence of trying to live according to the moral code and priorities the Light (James) professed to hold.</p><p>Especially when it came to Starlight.</p><p>It was fine for the Dark, who openly proclaim their selfishness and value, or at least don't denigrate, the idea that an upper class should exist (so long as the lower classes' needs are sufficiently met — wouldn't want a revolt on our hands, would we?), to ignore their plight, or at least not inconsistent. But for the Light, with their claims that all people ought to have certain rights and be respected as people, simply for existing, that an accident of birth doesn't make one person more deserving of wealth and power than another, it seemed that as a simple extension of their philosophy they shouldn't want Starlight to be confined to the outskirts of polite society. (Of course, they really meant all <em>humans</em> ought to be <em>in </em>the upper class, or at least not in the <em>lowest</em> class, and for that they needed an out-group, but I wasn't quite so cynical about their perspective, then.)</p><p>How could they see upyri children starving in the streets, or werewolves disfigured by scars from confining themselves on the moon to protect humans from themselves, and not recognise that their problems, the reasons they were barred from decent jobs, from public services and places, were entirely outside of their control? Wilderfolk don't choose their parents any more than muggleborns. How could anyone speak to them, witness their suffering, and yet refuse to admit that they were <em>people</em>? (The cynical answer being that to <em>see</em> a problem you have to actually <em>look</em> at it — most daylighters, Light <em>or</em> Dark, never <em>did</em> speak to Starlighters, if they could help it.)</p><p>If I challenged their principles and policies, it wasn't out of any sort of <em>malice</em>, or desire to convert <em>them</em> to the <em>Dark </em>perspective. I did still desperately want them — James, Dorea, even Dumbledore himself — to have some explanation, some <em>justification</em> for their apparent inconsistency. I <em>wanted</em> to be convinced that the people I had come to see as <em>the good guys</em> were good all around, that I could support them without feeling guilty for abandoning the Starlighters who I'd come to know over the summer (which was, as I understood it, the litmus test for <em>is this a good person thing to do?</em>).</p><p>Even in arguing for a peaceful surrender and resolution to the conflict, I would say I was simply being realistic, reading the writing on the wall and attempting to save as many lives as possible, on both sides — another principle which I was under the impression the Light considered A Good Thing.</p><p>I should have known when James resorted to shoving me at the Samhain feast, rather than continuing to argue for his side, that they were never going to convince me that they weren't completely full of shite. And if <em>that</em> didn't give it away, the fact that I suddenly found myself on speaking terms with Reggie and Narcissa again should have. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't change the fact that I'd been raised Dark, or that I never did belong with the Light.</p>
<hr/><p>Aster didn't know whether Dorea had told Jamie she was being perfectly reasonable making him swear not to report Evans or not, but he did seem to be more himself again by the time they reported for their detention that evening. Lines, bleh. Minnie couldn't <em>possibly</em> think that making her copy the sentence <em>I must not make suggestive comments toward my Head of House</em> two-hundred times would <em>actually</em> stop her from making suggestive comments, could she?</p><p>Jamie's sentence was shorter — <em>I must follow professors' instructions</em> — so he finished almost half an hour before she did. She was about to follow him up to the Tower and see if she could coax him into a calmer, less dramatic conversation, when <em>someone</em> used shadow-magic to whisper in her ear. "<em>Hey, Trixie, family meeting. Small Receiving Hall in five minutes. If you don't show up, Cissy says she'll find an excuse to challenge you to an honour duel and kick your arse in front of the entire school."</em></p><p>She scowled around the apparently empty corridor for a moment, trying to locate her twat of a brother. Not seeing him, she just announced to no one in particular, "It's not even curfew, yet, you overly-dramatic ponce!" She resisted the urge to say <em>don't call me Trixie</em>, because saying <em>exactly</em> the same thing Bella would wasn't exactly likely to discourage him.</p><p>Really, there was no reason to go to that much trouble to be all sneaky. It wasn't like she'd be able to blow him off any more if he'd asked her outright. Much as she wanted to say piss off and go find James, if Reg and Cissy were actually threatening physical harm to her in order to get her to talk to them, whatever this was was probably important. If she had to guess, she'd say it was probably about Evans, and therefore not so urgent they couldn't have written her a bloody letter, but she <em>had</em> burnt Reggie's last letter with an entirely appropriate degree of drama and fanfare when it arrived with the morning post back in...September, so... She sighed. <em>Fine, whatever</em>.</p><p>Also, fuck, September seemed like <em>forever</em> ago...</p><p>She hadn't really been expecting to find Snape lurking in the little annex off the Entrance Hall along with her brother and least favourite cousin, but she couldn't really say she was surprised either. "Reggie, Cissy, Snape. I presume this is about Evans?"</p><p>Cissy smirked at her. "Partially. Though before we get to that, what on Earth did you do to Potter?"</p><p>"...What? I mean, I made him promise not to report Evans as a black mage, but why do you care?"</p><p>"Ah, that explains it. Dorea apparently floo'd Slughorn to ask him to ask me to keep an eye on <em>you</em>, because apparently you did or said something disturbing to dear Cousin Jamie."</p><p>...Which meant that James had to have floo'd <em>Dorea</em>, rather than actually take the time to write and send a letter, and either he hadn't actually told her what Aster had said or Dorea had decided that Jamie freaking out and not believing her about Bella meant he probably couldn't be counted on to keep her in check if she really <em>did</em> start slipping back into Madness. Which...she was fine with that, actually, Jamie shouldn't have to be her bloody minder.</p><p>"And what exactly are <em>you</em> supposed to do about that?"</p><p>The blonde bitch giggled. "Well, I'm <em>supposed</em> to subdue you if you become a danger to yourself or others and call Dorea — though I'm not at <em>all</em> certain what <em>she</em> thinks she'd be able to do with you. I presume she's nearly as ill-equipped to deal with the Madness as anyone else outside the House." Aster groaned. "Don't worry, I'll call Bella first, you know she'd be annoyed if I gave you to Dorea and she ended up having to break you out of Janus Thickey or something."</p><p>There was something especially annoying about her usual patronising tone, today. Might've been the <em>I'll</em>. As in, <em>when</em> you lose your fucking mind again, not <em>if</em>. "Go die in a fire, Cissy."</p><p>"Love you, too, baby cousin."</p><p>"He <em>did</em> swear it, though?" Snape asked, sounding unaccountably alarmed — as though he hadn't considered that maybe it might be an issue, Jamie knowing that Evans was a bloody necromancer. (Which was...fair, Aster honestly hadn't either, before this morning's conversation.)</p><p>"Yes. After I threatened to knock him out and drag him to de Mort to be obliviated if he didn't."</p><p>The greaseball gave her a sardonic smirk that didn't quite manage to hide his relief. "I'm sure Lily will be positively touched."</p><p>"I didn't do it for <em>her</em>, I did it because if James gets her arrested and slapped with a fucking death sentence Bella will kill him." She turned back to Narcissa. "Why are we having a secret family meeting, and why is Snape here?"</p><p>"We're having a family meeting because Reggie wants to know what the appropriate degree of grovelling is to offer the newly-discovered Miss de Mort, I want to know how the hell this even <em>happened</em>, and Snape is here because he seems to think that Bella adopted Evans last night. While she was Persephone. And <em>you're</em> here because rumour has it you spent the better part of yesterday afternoon with Evans, Bella, and de Mort, so you presumably have some idea what's going on. And if Bella did adopt her, you need to know as much as we do — you <em>are</em> still a Black, in case you've forgotten."</p><p>She hadn't. "Fine. Why, exactly, do we think Bella adopted Evans? I mean, she did offer, but I didn't think Evans had accepted yet, and I'm pretty sure she didn't have time to talk to Uncle, so unless she's <em>actually</em> planning on challenging his leadership of the House — and she hasn't mentioned anything about that—" It was really fucking weird to be in a position to expect that Bella would share her plans with her, Aster reflected. "—I'm pretty sure she didn't <em>actually </em>adopt her."</p><p>She wasn't even sure she <em>could</em>, actually. Obviously the <em>House</em> would recognise it if she did, but Evans wasn't of age to consent to a <em>legal</em> adoption, as in one the Ministry would recognise.</p><p>Snape shrugged. "All I know is Lady Black said something about extending legal protection to her idiot daughter and started sketching runes on her forehead in blood. There was some Latin — don't ask me what, I wasn't about to go trying to get into any of their heads to eavesdrop — and a flash of magic, and then Persephone just...skipped off with Lily's body. I haven't been able to talk to her yet."</p><p>"She was still pretty fae and out of it this afternoon, so I told her to stay away from people for a while. She's probably been out in the Forest with Cassie or something. And you should definitely have tried eavesdropping on de Mort — he does it to everyone else, just seems fair." Snape gave her a flat, <em>are you fucking stupid</em> look. (Yes, she knew that de Mort was probably even more terrifying for mind mages than normal people, but he probably wouldn't have <em>minded</em>...which was just as annoying as his eavesdropping habit in its own way.) "But I don't think that sounds like a proper adoption?" By which she meant she was absolutely positive that it wasn't. She wasn't actually terribly familiar with standard adoption rituals, but even for the most superficial, least-involved, she'd think... "I mean, I'm pretty sure the adoptee has to consent, at the very least. And if she was possessed I don't think that counts."</p><p>"This is Bella we're talking about," Reggie said, his tone all dry and sardonic. "She'd probably insist they do a full blood adoption."</p><p>Well, that <em>was</em> a point. Aster snorted. That one she <em>was</em> familiar with. The House hadn't really adopted people for the last century or so, but back when they had, that was how they'd done it. That was actually why she <em>wasn't</em> familiar with standard, magic-only adoptions — in the <em>highly</em> unlikely event she would have had to preside over an adoption as the Head of the House (if she hadn't been disinherited), it wouldn't be some weak-arsed <em>outsider</em> adoption. Obviously Bella would agree. "And she'd have to get Uncle to agree to that ahead of time. Unless she popped over to the Keep while we were at dinner and convinced him to give her a blood sample..."</p><p>"She would have needed one of us, too," Cissy reminded them. "And even if she <em>had</em> adopted Evans, it wouldn't have given her <em>legal protection</em> — the Ministry wouldn't consider it legitimate. That sounds more like just claiming her as a ward of the House."</p><p>Snape stared blankly at her. "Which means...what, exactly?"</p><p>The cousins shared an exchange of glances. Aster shrugged. Her understanding of wardship was that it was kind of like a temporary, name-only adoption. Wards weren't part of the Family Magic, or at least not by default, and it only lasted until they came of age. She sighed. She should probably look this shite up, since it was apparently relevant now... (It was some small consolation that Cissy didn't seem to know <em>exactly</em> what it meant either — if she did, she would have answered already.)</p><p>"Whatever Bella wants it to mean, basically. It's a way of laying claim to and establishing guardianship over unattached children. Mostly muggleborns without a proper guardian, though if I'd actually been disowned Dorea could've made me a ward of the Potters. It's kind of a stop-gap measure, something to give them some legal standing until they're old enough to consent to an adoption or a patronage agreement. Mostly they're just treated like a child of the House, so Bella can offer her legal protection...or physical protection, if it comes down to it."</p><p>"Uncle still has to approve it, though," Reg added.</p><p>"Do you really think he would tell Bella <em>no</em>?" Cissy scoffed.</p><p>"I think you mean does anyone think Pater would <em>survive</em> telling Bella <em>no</em>," Aster corrected her.</p><p>The blonde shrugged, nodded. "I could see Dumbledore challenging her claim first."</p><p>Snape raised an eyebrow in silent question.</p><p>"Well, you can't just have Houses going around snatching up children willy-nilly. What if they didn't want to be snatched, or there's a House with a better claim on them? So pretty much anyone can contest a wardship, if they want to." If they <em>couldn't</em>, Bella could just go around <em>kidnapping</em> muggleborn children and claiming them for the House of Black instead of killing them.</p><p>...Which might actually be an improvement, though Arcturus would <em>never</em> agree to it.</p><p>"Yes, but Miss de Mort—" ("Evans," Aster corrected her brother.) "—is old enough her opinion would have to be taken into account, right? And somehow I don't see her choosing to <em>leave</em> the House, so..."</p><p>Cissy smirked at him, clicking her tongue. "So young, so innocent..." Reggie glared at her. "I'm just saying, if you think the Old Goat couldn't come up with some way to invalidate her testimony, that's just painfully naïve of you. After all, this poor, ignorant muggleborn couldn't <em>possibly</em> know what she's getting into, she's clearly been misled if she thinks the <em>Dark</em> has the best interests of <em>people like her</em> at heart."</p><p>"I'm sure that would go over well. <em>No, muggleborns who make a point of seeking out </em>real <em>Magic are perfectly acceptable, Daddy said so in his manifesto, even</em> — speaking of which, which of you fuckers is going to share their copy?"</p><p>"Why? Had a sudden change of heart?" Cissy asked lightly. "You couldn't have decided to come around, oh, I don't know, before <em>breaking the bloody Covenant?!"</em></p><p>"<em>No</em>, it just occurred to me that it would be a lot easier to convince Dumbledore to consider actually negotiating a truce with them if I could beat him over the head with something that sounded vaguely reasonable, rather than just telling him Bella promises to stop slaughtering muggle children in primary schools if he lets them have the Isle of Man. Especially since she hasn't promised any such thing."</p><p>"Dark Powers preserve us," Reggie muttered. "<em>Trixie</em> is going to be our ambassador? We're so fucked..."</p><p>Aster flipped him the deuce. "I'm not an <em>ambassador</em>, and I'm not on your side, either. I'm just...relaying intelligence gathered from behind enemy lines, and arguing that we call for a strategic cease-fire in order to discuss a diplomatic resolution to the conflict, in the interests of preserving life on both sides."</p><p>Reg smirked. "Fancy fucking way to admit the Light's already lost, but okay."</p><p><em>Well, </em>yes<em>. What of it?</em> "Piss off."</p><p>"Lily has our copy," Snape volunteered, steering the conversation away from pointless bickering. "Presumably it's in your bloody dorm room somewhere, if you'd actually bothered to <em>look</em>."</p><p><em>Did you </em>know <em>I didn't actually look, or are you just guessing?</em> He didn't react even a little bit, and she couldn't really feel him eavesdropping, so probably the latter.</p><p>"Speaking of which, and returning to the subject at hand, what the <em>hell</em> happened yesterday, Black? I leave you alone with Lily for <em>one afternoon</em>, and when I catch up with you she's snuggling up to the Dark Lord and stealing you from Potter? Lady Black and <em>the bloody Dark Lord</em> are openly claiming her as their daughter? She's giving up even attempting to pretend to be normal, because <em>reasons</em>? Has the <em>entire bloody world</em> gone <em>mad?"</em></p><p>"Er...no? Also, Bella's <em>Lady Bellatrix</em>. Calling her Lady Black either implies she's Arcturus's wife, or that you think she is or should be the Head of the House — which <em>you</em> don't get to have an opinion about."</p><p>Snape raised an eyebrow like <em>really, that's what you're focusing on, here?!</em></p><p>"Why do you think Cissy and I haven't corrected him?" Reggie asked.</p><p>Oh. Maybe that was raising an eyebrow like <em>do you think I don't know that?</em> then.</p><p>"If Bella <em>wanted</em> to be Lady Black, she would have challenged Pater when she was my age." When she'd saved Aster's life, and basically told Arcturus that if he wasn't going to do his job <em>she would</em>. She just didn't <em>want</em> to. Probably because it was a lot harder to be a Dark Lady when you had responsibilities to the House. "It doesn't matter if you get all of bloody Slytherin to start acting like she's already our Lady, she doesn't want the job." Also, she was sworn to de Mort, kind of made her a bad candidate, since the Lord's first priority had to be the House, not <em>her own</em> Lord.</p><p>Reggie knew that, too. He just pouted at her.</p><p>"Anyway, <em>no</em>, the entire bloody world hasn't gone mad...any more than usual, at least. I wrote Bella last weekend about the Death Eater Rape Baby Theory, because Evans is really uncannily like de Mort, I can't believe it took me this long to notice, and apparently they did some ritual where he raped her mum and they left her to die — she didn't, obviously — and Bella thought she should come find out if I'd completely lost the plot, which apparently means kidnapping us to a Mafia pizzeria. I think she thinks your beloved pointy blond ponce is a bit dull, Cissy." Cissy glared at her, but didn't disagree. Aster was pretty sure <em>Cissy</em> found Lucius Malfoy to be a bit dull, but he <em>was</em> a good match, politically speaking — and being <em>Lady Malfoy</em> in two years, controlling their Seat and all, more than made up for his being a boring twat. "Also, I wasn't the only one who saw the resemblance, Cian met her over the summer and he said something—"</p><p>"Wait, Cian actually <em>talked</em> to her?"</p><p>Aster snorted at Cissy's completely reasonable surprise. Cian was one of the least sociable Rosiers. He <em>always</em> ended up in the library at any social function, and generally didn't say much of anything to anyone at all. "At the Bookshop, about Bella's Arithmancy essays. Doesn't count as actual social interaction. But he asked Bella if de Mort had a kid too, so she thought maybe she should look into it. And since it's patently <em>obvious</em> that they're related — Evans's response to <em>what would you say if I told you we raped and tortured your mum</em> was <em>what's in it for me</em>, which is possibly the most <em>de Mort</em> thing anyone's ever said, ever — she summoned the snakey bastard to share in the joy of discovering his long lost child. And Evans being <em>Evans</em> and de Mort being <em>de Mort</em>, they obviously hit it off, and the three of them spent all afternoon talking about nerdy Arithmancy shite and whether it's a more realistic goal to build a floating island or an underwater bubble-dome thing. Also, speaking <em>Snakish</em> just to be annoying. I'd be more surprised if they <em>hadn't</em> decided they wanted to keep her.</p><p>"What were the other things, again?"</p><p>Snape's glower, which had lightened somewhat at her comment about the Parseltongue, returned in full force. "Her giving up on the Great Charade, and deciding to steal you from Potter— Did I <em>miss</em> something, yesterday? Because I wasn't aware that self-righteous moron had done anything so fundamentally offensive as to justify completely subverting you. And what the hell was going on with Dumbledore? I'd've come over to see for myself, but I'm not an idiot Gryffindor with a death wish, so."</p><p><em>The Great Charade?</em> Aster rolled her eyes — people said <em>she</em> was overly dramatic... "Well, you see, if you have <em>the fucking Dark Lord</em>, <em>Bellatrix</em>, and <em>Death Itself</em> telling Dumbledore to piss off on your behalf, you're not really obliged to pretend not to be entirely <em>mad</em>. She threatened to completely obliterate him if he threatens any of us — Bella, not Evans — so that's a thing, and honestly if it were me, I'd think that'd be enough to back the fuck down. That wasn't what had Dumbles so freaked out, though — Kore hijacked Evans to guilt-trip him about his sister's death and dismissed him as his mum."</p><p>Reggie let out an incredulous <em>ha</em>. "She— <em>Really</em>?"</p><p>"I couldn't make this shite up, Reg."</p><p>"And <em>stealing you</em> from Potter?" Narcissa asked, all stern and disapproving. Which was kind of weird, she didn't like Jamie any more than Bella did. "Does that mean what I think it means?"</p><p>"I don't know, what do you think it means?" Aster said, trying not to sound cagey.</p><p>"I'm hoping it <em>doesn't</em> mean you're going to do something <em>completely stupid</em> like swear fealty to her, but I can't help seeing certain <em>parallels</em> here, <em>Trixie</em>..."</p><p>Aster pouted at her. "Ha, bloody ha. Bella already made that joke. Though, I guess de Mort kind of got there first, naming me after her and all. Whatever. No, I'm not planning on abandoning Jamie for her. She just...doesn't think he treats me right."</p><p>"Bella said he made you cry," Reggie observed, sounding very hard like he was trying not to laugh. "I didn't even know you <em>could</em> cry, you know, <em>for real</em>. What are you, six? And what did he <em>do</em>?"</p><p>"Piss off, Reggie," she said shortly, glowering at him. There was no way in hell she was going to try to explain the whole <em>take my word that taking my word is wrong</em> thing, even if Reg and Cissy would probably get it better than Jamie had. "It's not important, I'm over it. And it's not Jamie's fault he doesn't— It's not important. Evans was misinterpreting our relationship, and therefore thought he should be more...accommodating of me being a crazy person than he is."</p><p>Cissy and Reg exchanged a loaded look. Snape's eyes, fixed on Aster's, narrowed, his face falling into a rather grimmer-than-usual frown. "She isn't misinterpreting your relationship. You <em>follow</em> Potter. He doesn't recognise that fact. He certainly doesn't <em>appreciate</em> it."</p><p><em>GET OUT OF MY HEAD, SNAPE!</em> Snape didn't flinch. Maybe he'd just managed to put that much together observing them over the past few months. Bugger. (Also, if <em>Snape</em> got it, why the <em>hell</em> couldn't Jamie?!)</p><p>"He doesn't understand you, or even accept you. He's still hung up on his best mate <em>Sirius</em> going and <em>turning himself into a girl</em>. Lily, for some gods-unknown reason, finds this problematic. I'm aware of all that. What <em>I</em> want to know is why she's decided to intervene and stake a claim on you for herself, and what, precisely, she thinks that entails."</p><p>Aster glowered at him. "Yeah, well, go ask her, then, because I don't know. I would say she feels sorry for me, but we both know she's not capable, so. Is that it? Are we done, here?"</p><p>Cissy shook her head. "No, we still need to decide how we're going to approach Evans, given recent developments."</p><p>Aster groaned. "What is there to decide?"</p><p>"Oh, I don't know," Cissy paced between a pair of armchairs for a moment before turning back to Aster rather suddenly. "Do you think Bella's really going to adopt her?"</p><p>"Yes. Definitely. Well, assuming Evans wants it, and she's not a bloody idiot, so, yes."</p><p>"Okay, then do we treat her like a cousin? A niece? A <em>sister</em>? Someone has to make sure she actually understands what it <em>means</em>, being adopted, because you <em>know</em> Bella won't, and—"</p><p>"She doesn't even know what it means to be part of <em>any</em> House, let alone ours, yes, I'm aware. I've got it covered." She <em>had</em> been trained as the heir of the House, it wasn't like she didn't <em>know</em> that shite. "And...I don't know how we're supposed to act toward her. Second-marriage siblings, maybe?" Cissy frowned, probably because even if that <em>did</em> seem like about the right degree of familiarity, Bella wasn't <em>actually</em> their mother, and it wasn't as though Evans had been raised by de Mort anyway. (Generally, one would expect the children of a remarrying widow and widower to be of the same social class, at least. It didn't exactly happen <em>often</em>.) "Not like it really <em>matters</em>, though. She doesn't know enough to have any expectations. I don't think she'd expect you to treat her like Family, especially since she hasn't even been adopted yet, and I don't even know if she remembers Bella claiming her as a ward."</p><p>Cissy groaned. "I hate this," she whined. Not the idea of adopting Evans, Aster assumed — if Bella was going to go adopting anyone, Evans probably fit in with the House better than anyone else in the school they weren't <em>already </em>related to. Cissy just didn't like not knowing what to do or how to act in any given situation. "I wish Bella would just <em>tell me</em> when she's going to do something like this..."</p><p>Called it. "Come on, Cissy, you know that would <em>completely</em> interfere with the whole spirit of doing shite like adopting someone on a mad whim."</p><p>"Fuck you, Trixie."</p><p>"And make Reggie jealous? I <em>couldn't</em>."</p><p>"I refuse to dignify that with a response," Cissy snapped, all haughtily offended. Reggie just went slightly flushed, looking anywhere but at Cissy, clearly trying not to let on that he was embarrassed, even though he <em>definitely was</em>. They thought no one knew about their unconsummated mutual lust for each other, but they weren't <em>that</em> subtle.</p><p>"You know, if you asked Bella, she'd probably talk Uncle around for you. Being Lady Malfoy is all fine and dandy, but you <em>could</em> be Lady Black," Aster said, a gleeful smirk making it almost impossible to get the words out evenly. Cissy was <em>trying</em> to ignore her, but Aster knew her well enough to see she was actually considering it. <em>Tee hee</em>. "Plus, Reggie's much less boring than Lucy. I mean, he's still <em>kind of</em> boring, but—"</p><p>"Is Evans really angry with me?" a very red-faced Reggie asked Snape loudly, apparently attempting to drown out Aster's teasing and effectively changing the subject. "She knows trying to recruit you wasn't <em>personal</em>, right?" he added, a hint of uncertainty in his tone making him sound rather younger than he actually was (which was probably intentional).</p><p>Snape didn't buy it, either. He rolled his eyes. "You <em>made</em> it personal when you let Mulciber and Avery start threatening to hurt her in order to pressure me."</p><p>"Ian and Jules were threatening to hurt her for their own reasons — I just said I'd <em>stop</em> them, if you agreed to start coming to events with me."</p><p>"And I — quite reasonably, in my opinion — thought that was a load of hippogriff dung."</p><p>Reggie pouted in a way that said it probably was. Ian was a bit of an idiot, but not enough of one to think it was a good idea to escalate his feud with Evans while they were all still in school and she could appeal to the professors if he went too far. He'd probably been counting on never actually having to do whatever it was he'd been threatening to do, because he was a stupid coward like that.</p><p>Snape sighed. "No, she's not really <em>angry with you</em>, she's <em>offended</em>. You threatened <em>her</em> to get to <em>me</em>, made her a liability to me instead of my ally or protector, which I'm sure you can imagine is both an insult and a threat to <em>her</em>." Aster's brother winced, probably because when Snape put it in those terms, what he'd done was <em>incredibly fucked up</em>. "I doubt she believes you <em>meant</em> to threaten or undermine her authority over me. She knows you don't consider her to be an active player, let alone competition for my loyalty — which is insulting in its own right. But that doesn't change the fact that you <em>did</em>. And you <em>did</em> manipulate me into publicly renouncing her. Regardless of how superficial that renouncement might have been... <em>Offended </em>might not be strong enough a term."</p><p>Reggie winced again. "...She's going to kill me."</p><p>Not an unreasonable conclusion — if someone had done that to one of them, they would have been expected to fucking <em>destroy</em> them, for the sake of their repuation as a House. Evans didn't really have a reputation to uphold though. And she knew enough about the internal politics of Slytherin House to know there was more to the attempt to recruit Snape than just Reggie targeting him. Since Snape was clearly still on relatively good terms with Reggie — and it wasn't like anyone would dare try to follow his example <em>now</em>, regardless of whether she made an example of him — she'd probably let it go relatively easily.</p><p>"Not <em>literally</em>," Aster volunteered, rolling her eyes at her brother's concern. "De Mort told her about the List. And even if she does have some natural talent for <em>ruining everything forever</em>, I don't think she has much experience intentionally torturing people. You'll be fine, you big baby."</p><p>Snape looked <em>very</em> much like he was trying not to smirk at that. "Just apologise, Regulus. Offer to make it up to her. She might make you do something humiliating, but it's not like it'll ruin your reputation in Slytherin kowtowing to <em>the bloody Dark Lord's </em>daughter — anyone with half a brain would do the same."</p><p>"Do you really think she wants to make a point of positioning herself above Reggie in the baby Death Eater hierarchy?" Aster had to ask, because she...really didn't think Evans actually <em>wanted</em> people to see her as de Mort's daughter before anything else.</p><p>Bat-boy shrugged. "Putting herself in a position to tell them to piss off might be worth their inevitable fawning and favour-seeking. And if she's giving up on the Charade, her days of the Light thinking well of her are numbered anyway."</p><p>"She might re-think that, though, now that she's not halfway out to sea. Sabotaging herself with the Light really is a shite political move. If I were you, Reg, I'd apologise in private, and offer to make a limited public apology at a Slytherin House Council Meeting or something. You know, let her decide if she wants to keep up her reputation with the rest of the school, rather than abasing yourself in the middle of the Great Hall or some shite and outing her as fucking Asphodel de Mort to <em>literally everyone</em>." All three of the Slytherins blinked at her, as though she'd suddenly grown a second head. "<em>What?!"</em></p><p>"I think you might've been missorted, Black," Snape said, trying not to snigger.</p><p>"The only reason she demanded to go to Gryffindor was to spite her parents," Narcissa informed him.</p><p>"<em>And</em> because I don't <em>like</em> being a sneaky, backstabbing, politicking arse."</p><p>Cissy smirked at her. "But you're so <em>good</em> at it!"</p><p>Yeah, well, she'd been good at dark magic, too. That didn't mean she'd enjoyed casting it. "Piss off."</p><p>"So, does this mean you're coming home, then?" Now it was Reggie's turn to be the centre of attention.</p><p>"What? Why would I...?"</p><p>He fidgeted a bit under her confused annoyance, <em>actually</em> uncertain rather than just pretending, she thought. Unless he'd realised that his tell was the way he shifted his balance to be ready to fight or flee when he thought he was about to piss off someone who might very well hex him for whatever idiocy came out of his mouth next, and was faking it to mess with her. (She didn't think he had.) "Well, Potter's obviously not okay with you being a girl, or insane, and you're clearly still talking to Bella — you're talking to <em>us</em>, and <em>not</em> being a complete arse about it. And you've been spending an awful lot of time with de Mort's daughter, so I just thought... Mother misses you, you know."</p><p>Well, she was fairly certain he hadn't been faking it right up to that last bit. <em>That</em> was just complete rubbish. "You mean, <em>you </em>miss me, because when I'm not there Walburga only has <em>you</em> to focus on."</p><p>Reggie scowled. "...<em>Maybe</em>. She has been a lot angrier since you left, though."</p><p>"Yeah, hate to break it to you, but she was always a fucking <em>bitch</em>, you just didn't notice because <em>you</em> were the <em>good</em> kid and she had me to use for target practice. I'm not coming back, Reg."</p><p>"Why <em>not?"</em> he moaned, sounding <em>terribly</em> inconvienced by her refusal to do something as simple and untaxing as just <em>moving back in with a woman who hated her and made every moment of her existence a fucking misery</em>. Selfish twat. "You <em>know</em> you don't belong with the Light!"</p><p>"That really doesn't matter. Walburga <em>disowned me</em>, Reg. She <em>used the Cruciatus</em> on me. She's not my mother anymore."</p><p>"<em>Bella</em> used the Cruciatus on you, and you still like <em>her</em>."</p><p>"Yeah, but I didn't like Walburga <em>before</em> she decided to start throwing around Unforgivables. And it's not just about that. It's not even <em>mostly</em> about that. She fucking <em>tortured</em> me for <em>eight years</em>, Reg. Eight years of never being good enough, of constant derision and scorn, unending attempts to guilt me into being the son she wanted me to be. Eight years of feeling my soul <em>burn</em> every time I cast a dark spell, every time she called me a liar and <em>insisted</em> I cast that shite <em>anyway</em>... Her casting the Cruciatus on me just says she's finally as done with me as I am with her.</p><p>"Even if I <em>wanted </em>to come back and try to make up for breaking the Covenant — which I don't — I wouldn't be going back to Grimmauld. That bridge is a smouldering wreck. If you really can't stand being alone with Walburga and Orion, go to Ancient House, or ask Pater if you can have the Hogsmeade cottage — maybe that'll finally drive it home to dear Wally that she's a fucking shite mum. But I'm not coming back."</p><p>Reggie matched her glare for all of two very tense seconds before muttering a sulky, "<em>Fine</em>."</p><p>"Fine. So, are we done <em>now</em>, then?" None of the Slytherins seemed to have anything to say for themselves, so after another tense second or two, she added, "Fucking fantastic," and stalked out without another word.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's not exactly likely that Dumbledore would be able to paint Lily as mentally incompetent or even likely that he'd try, it's just more likely than Arcturus stopping Bella from doing any damn thing she pleases. (It's much more likely that he'd try to prove Bella's an unfit guardian, because the whole guardianship system doesn't work quite like Aster thinks it does.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Yes, I really should have seen this coming, shut up.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What is <em>she</em> doing here?"</p>
<p>Evans looked from Aster to Narcissa and back, obviously amused by their unintentional synchronicity. "Aster is here to make me look sane and reasonable by comparison, and also because she's nosey like that. Cissa is here because Bella doesn't think I know enough about Magical British law to call any bluffs our esteemed Headmaster might make, and also because it's good practice for that whole Lady of the Wizengamot thing."</p>
<p>Aster glared at Evans for characterising her tagging along to the meeting Dumbledore had demanded with her after dinner on Wednesday — almost three whole days after the Samhain ritual, which he presumably thought was long enough for Persephone's influence over Evans to have waned (<em>ha</em>) — as just nosiness on her point. She didn't actually <em>say</em> anything, though, because she was pretty sure that as far as Evans knew, it was.</p>
<p>She was <em>actually </em>here because Bella had apparently claimed guardianship over her idiot roommate and there was no point extending legal protection to someone if they had no idea what that meant. There also wasn't much point if no one else knew what it meant either, so Aster had looked it up after that "family meeting".</p>
<p>Apparently <em>outside</em> of the House, Evans would just be considered <em>Bella's</em> ward, not a ward of the House as a whole. Sort of like making her Evans's <em>custos</em>. She was personally responsible for her wellbeing and/or fuck-ups, according to the Wizengamot and the Ministry. As best Aster could tell, the House of Black kind of just collectively rolled their eyes and allowed the idea that a ward belonged to whoever had claimed them, rather than the House as a whole, to exist as a polite sort of fiction, while <em>within</em> the House wards were considered members of the House without a parent as an immediate authority figure, like Aster. If Evans had been a little kid, Arcturus might have made Bella her caretaker, but as far as the House was concerned Evans was already an adult, so that wasn't really necessary.</p>
<p>But whether they thought Evans belonged specifically to Bella or not, outsiders were still obliged to treat wards as they would any other member of the House of Black, so the House had a right to send a witness to observe any conversation between Evans and political rivals (or outright enemies) of the House (like Dumbledore), especially when the topic at hand was her relationship with Magic. That was the sort of thing you <em>definitely</em> didn't want an ignorant muggleborn discussing with someone who could basically sentence her to death if he got the wrong (entirely accurate) idea about her. So it had seemed like a good idea for Aster to invite herself along.</p>
<p>See, Aster had written to confirm that that <em>was</em> what Bella had done, and been told in no uncertain terms that she was to look out for Evans as if she were a younger sister which, since Evans <em>hadn't</em> been raised to what Bella considered a reasonable standard of paranoia, meant Aster was now in a very odd position somewhere between child-minder to a girl her own age and mentor to someone who didn't know she was supposed to be following her example. At least, she didn't think Bella had told Evans that, and Aster hadn't found a good point to bring it up yet. (She'd only gotten Bella's response last night.)</p>
<p>If Bella <em>had</em> told Evans that Aster was supposed to be looking out for her, Evans definitely didn't know what that meant <em>either</em>, if she'd thought she needed to invite Narcissa along. Yes, Cissy was a few months older and took the whole pureblood princess thing a lot more seriously than Aster, but Aster <em>had </em>been trained as the heir of the House, it wasn't like she didn't know all the relevant precedents herself. (What to do if you were accused of using high magic was actually one of the things she'd been taught about as a kid, unlike how bloody wardships worked.) And Bella <em>knew</em> that, she'd taught her most of it herself, which suggested she'd just told Evans something like <em>don't talk to Dumbledore alone</em>, and Evans had assumed Cissy would be better at making a legal argument in her defence. Which might actually be true, Cissy was arguably the better speaker of the two of them, and far less likely than Aster to get distracted and meander into obscure tangents, but it was still kind of annoying that Cissy had said <em>yes</em>, elbowing in on Aster's responsibilities, knowingly or not.</p>
<p>Unless...Bella hadn't told <em>Cissy</em> to treat Evans like a sister, <em>too</em>, had she?</p>
<p>It maybe wouldn't be entirely surprising if she <em>had</em> — <em>Cissy and Aster </em>had been raised as siblings, after all, but that was just... It just didn't feel right, somehow. Aster's weird position as a parentally-disowned daughter of the House was actually very similar to Evans's as a ward, so it made <em>sense</em> for <em>Aster</em> to think of her as a sister. But not Cissy. That made sense, right? Cissy (and Reg) could treat Evans like a second-marriage sister, but it wasn't Cissy's job to take care of Evans. It was Aster's. And Bella tended to be on the same page as Aster most of the time, Aster was pretty sure she wouldn't have told Cissy to treat Evans like a sister or, what, as though she were the First Daughter of the House intervening on Evans's behalf? That was even more wrong than Cissy treating Evans like a sister. If <em>anyone</em> was the heir to Bella's position as First Daughter and all-around pain in the arse to the adults of the House, it was <em>Aster</em>, not Little Miss Perfect over there!</p>
<p>"When did Bella say <em>that?"</em> Cissy asked, obviously annoyed and apparently as far out of the loop as Aster herself, which was somewhat mollifying.</p>
<p>"Mmm, Monday afternoon? When Aster told me I shouldn't be around people — I figured Bella and Thom didn't count."</p>
<p>...So she'd just gone and hunted down the Dark Lord and the Blackheart to hang out for a few hours. Not weird at all.</p>
<p>"Did she say anything else which might be relevant to our impending conversation?"</p>
<p>"Not really, she barely mentioned Dumbledore in passing, honestly. She spent more time nagging me to learn French. Come on, we're going to be late." She turned to the gargoyle statue which guarded the Headmaster's staircase. "Licorice wands." It animated and hopped aside, allowing her to lead the way past it. "We spent a <em>lot</em> more time talking about a magical lunar mission, and how feasible something like that would be. I mean, dealing with the vacuum and freefall and such would be easy enough, but that kind of assumes there's magic in space, and as it turns out extra-terrestrial geomancy isn't a huge field of study."</p>
<p>Aster snorted. "Well, it <em>is</em> kind of in the name — <em>geo</em>-mancy. What's so cool about the moon, anyway?"</p>
<p>Evans stopped dead to turn and stare at her, appalled. (Though the staircase kept carrying them upward, of course.) "It's <em>the moon</em>!"</p>
<p>"It's just a boring, lifeless rock. If you want to bounce around in low gravity, you can enchant a field to do that here on Earth."</p>
<p>"But... It's the first step toward exploring <em>other planets</em>, Aster! <em>Spaceflight! </em>Space <em>colonies!</em> We could live on <em>Mars</em>!" Aster just gave her a blank stare. "How can someone who thinks the idea of exploring other planes is as fascinating as you do <em>not</em> think that exploring more of our own solar system, even the <em>entire universe</em>, <em>isn't</em> fascinating?"</p>
<p>"Maybe because there's a cold, lifeless void between Earth and anything else? Leaving Earth is like stepping through the bloody Veil, or jumping overboard in the middle of a trans-Atlantic carpet ride. Now, maybe <em>you</em> don't find that conceptually terrifying, but—"</p>
<p>"Trixie!" Cissy snapped, cutting her off. "Lily! You can debate the merits of space exploration when we're <em>not</em> ten seconds from trying to convince the Chief Warlock that none of us has been meddling with Anathema magic in our spare time."</p>
<p>...Right. Aster shut her mouth just as they reached the landing. Evans, clearly still annoyed with her lack of enthusiasm for such a bloody mad project as <em>visiting the moon</em> or colonising bloody <em>Mars</em> — which <em>had</em> to be more difficult than colonising the ocean, at least the ocean was <em>nearby</em> — knocked sharply on the Headmaster's door.</p>
<p>It opened immediately to reveal Dumbledore, sitting behind his desk as he generally was, wearing a very sombre (for him) gold-trimmed navy robe (speckled with tiny golden constellations, because this was still Dumbledore) and an equally sombre frown. The sense of wisdom and welcoming and understanding which generally surrounded him (and which Aster had never really been able to trust) had been replaced by a very Arcturus-like stern disapproval (altogether more familiar, and also less, because this was <em>Dumbledore</em> — where were the soft smiles and offers of lemon-flavoured dew-drops?). "Miss Evans," he said, a serious note of dire warning in his tone, before realising that Aster and Cissy had followed her in. "Miss Black? And Miss Black? I don't recall inviting you to this meeting."</p>
<p>"The House of Black has a right and an obligation to send an adult representative to observe, advise, and mediate in any interaction between any underage member of the House—" Not that Evans was underage by internal House standards, but British law considered the age of majority to be seventeen, not fifteen. Convenient, that. "—be they wards or natural children thereof, and any figure of authority outside of the House, including Headmasters, Chief Warlocks, and Supreme Mugwumps," Narcissa informed him.</p>
<p>"And Narcissa's here because she's nosey like that," Aster interjected, even though <em>her</em> birthday wasn't for a couple more weeks. (<em>She</em> thought she was funny.)</p>
<p>Cissy glared at her. "As the eldest representative of the House of Black currently resident in the Castle, I am here to fulfill that duty of my House for both Asphodel and Asteria, who has her own business to discuss with you as the Chief Warlock."</p>
<p>Wait, <em>what?!</em> Yes, she <em>had</em> told Cissy that she was planning on beating Dumbledore over the head with de Mort's bloody manifesto until he agreed to negotiate a truce with them — which was, she was pretty sure, the most effective way to stop the bloodshed — but she hadn't even finished reading the stupid thing, yet! (It wasn't that long, but she kept getting side-tracked looking up political philosophy topics, not to mention trying to figure out whether House law superceded British law on issues surrounding the recognition of wards and their rights.) Cissy raised an eyebrow at her as though to say, <em>are you telling me you can't make up some excuse for your presence here?</em></p>
<p>Which, <em>yes</em>, she probably could, if only to extend a formal invitation to debate the topic of political philosophy at a later date — i.e. <em>after</em> she finished preparing her arguments — but she certainly hadn't been planning on doing something like that <em>today</em>, especially since he might very well decide that there was no point in waiting, and Aster wasn't at all prepared to have that conversation today!</p>
<p>"Asphodel's business of course takes precedence, given that it was her presence the Chief Warlock requested here today," she deflected smoothly. "I would simply take a few moments of His Excellency's time once that business is concluded, should he be amenable to speaking with me."</p>
<p>Hopefully they'd get sufficiently wrapped up in that whole <em>Lily Evans being Asphodel </em>fucking <em>de Mort</em> thing that he would completely forget about it. She suspected he already thought she was just making shite up to justify being a nosey twat, beard twitching with a suppressed smile at her performance. Evans, meanwhile, was looking at her as though she couldn't quite believe Aster had just said something so ridiculous (or possibly that she'd said it so formally).</p>
<p>Dumbledore's eyes narrowed as he clearly decided that he'd play along with Cissy's overly-formal presentation of this discussion (which he had probably intended to be simply an opportunity to express his disapproval of Evans's forays into High Magic and unsubtly warn her of the dangers of associating with de Mort and the Dark in general). "Surely Miss Evans would prefer to have this conversation in privacy."</p>
<p>"No, they can stay, Professor. I don't mind. And it's way more trouble than it's worth to try to convince them their presence isn't necessary," Evans said, sounding all exasperated, as though she hadn't invited them to come along. Well, invited Cissy and informed Aster about the meeting in such a way as to ensure that she would volunteer to attend. Manipulative bitch. (On this particular occasion, she meant that in the most flattering, admiring way.) "You know how the House of Black can be about Family. Apparently Bellatrix taking an interest in me means I can't be left to muddle through a simple conversation with you on my own. Which, yes, I know your political interests are opposed, but—" She turned to Aster, on her right. "Honestly, I'm a prefect, it's not like I've never spoken to the Headmaster in private before."</p>
<p>Obviously she was meant to object to that. "Yeah, well, you were his — what were your words? Oh, yes, his good little poster girl for muggleborn success, <em>before</em>. <em>Now</em>, you're not even muggleborn."</p>
<p>Evans gave her the flattest of looks. "You've <em>met</em> my mum and dad, Aster." Was it not clear from Aster and Cissy referring to her as Asphodel that she was meant to use full names in formal situations? Or was she trying to underline how very muggle-raised and ignorant she was about these things? "They're about as muggle as it gets."</p>
<p>"I've met your <em>foster</em> <em>parents</em>. I've also met the man <em>you</em>, in case you've forgotten, decided to acknowledge as your <em>father </em>three days ago. A man whom, again, in case you've forgotten, the Chief Warlock considers to be a personal enemy and a danger to the stability and people of Britain, and whose political positions you've openly supported since you were <em>twelve</em>. When you were just an ignorant little muggleborn, questioning your Headmaster's politics rather than just going along blindly with the dictates of his authority was almost admirable, if a bit annoying. Thom de Mort's daughter doing the same is a <em>threat</em>."</p>
<p>"That's ridiculous," Evans said firmly, turning back to Dumbledore. "See what I mean, sir? They're completely paranoid. I mean, <em>obviously</em> you and I are <em>exactly the same people</em> as we were before Samhain."</p>
<p>That wasn't actually true, Aster was pretty sure Evans had actually, formally dedicated herself to Persephone during the ritual. She hadn't <em>said</em> anything, of course, but her magic had changed slightly. It felt <em>deeper</em> now, and she was obviously channelling more magic than she had before the ritual, which Aster figured was probably a gift from Kore. Her control was still <em>very</em> good — unusually so, maybe, for just getting a noticeable power-bump like that — but Aster could see it in the way ambient magic swirled around her.</p>
<p>She wondered if Dumbledore could tell.</p>
<p>If he could, he didn't say anything either. He cleared his throat, trying to arrange his face into an expression implying that he <em>didn't</em> agree <em>one-thousand per cent</em> with Aster's reading of the situation, as though to say, <em>of </em>course <em>the Blacks are just being paranoid, my dear, I could never consider you to be a threat, what sort of terrible person would completely turn on a sixteen-year-old girl simply because she realised she was adopted</em>. If there were even the slightest chance Evans could be turned away from de Mort's politics — or at the very least, convinced not to join him — he had to take it. And of course he wouldn't want to admit he found her talents and accomplishments less admirable now that he knew she was only muggle-<em>raised</em>. That was tantamount to admitting he was just as racist as Narcissa over there, albeit in a much more pro-muggleborn way.</p>
<p>(Manipulative <em>fucking</em> bitch.)</p>
<p>"Be that as it may, Miss Evans, it is not the revelation of your parentage which I've called you here to discuss, but the degree to which you've involved yourself in the Traditionalists' holiday observations over the past several years."</p>
<p>Evans bit her lower lip, looking very convincingly embarrassed about her actions leading up to the Samhain ritual. "Ah. That."</p>
<p>"Yes, <em>that</em>," the old man repeated gravely.</p>
<p>"I certainly hope you're not about to suggest that Traditionalist students oughtn't be allowed to build relationships and share our cultural heritage with our muggle-raised peers, Your Excellency." Aster very narrowly avoided sniggering at Narcissa's haughty impression of her mother.</p>
<p>"Certainly not, Miss Black. Though I do not believe my disapproval of such practices is unknown, I would <em>hardly</em> wish to forbid any activity which fosters greater understanding between the most deeply divided factions of our society. It would, however, behoove Traditionalist students to exercise <em>caution</em> in introducing muggle-raised students to the more dangerous, more <em>volatile </em>magics practised by families such as your own."</p>
<p>"It's hardly Cissy's fault, or that of any of the organisers, really, that Samhain didn't go entirely according to plan," Evans said firmly, brow furrowing in the tiniest of accusing frowns. "I don't hold any of <em>them</em> responsible for the ill effects I suffered when the ritual was delayed. I may have been out of line to say so at the time and in that particular company, but I stand by my claim that you shouldn't have tried to cancel the ceremony, <em>sir</em>. And they didn't <em>introduce me</em> to ritual magic, anyway—" She wasn't going to say what Aster <em>thought</em> she was going to say, was she? "—I was making rituals for myself <em>long</em> before I knew that formal wizardry existed."</p>
<p><em>Bugger</em>.</p>
<p>Dumbledore blinked at her for a moment, as though he couldn't quite believe she'd just <em>said</em> that. Cissy, when Aster leaned around Evans to check, was giving her almost exactly the same look. "Pardon me, my dear, but did you just say..."</p>
<p>"...that I discovered magic long before I met Professor McGonagall, or even Sev?" Evans asked, her tone and expression almost <em>belligerently </em>innocent, if such a thing was possible. "Yes. If you don't want muggleborn children playing around and discovering forbidden magics for themselves, it might behoove <em>you</em> to introduce our families to Magical Britain and its laws when we start having accidental magic episodes, rather than simply obliviating everyone involved — and hoping we won't realise that if you wish for something, <em>really hard</em>, it might just...<em>happen</em>."</p>
<p>"Miss Evans," the wizard said, his face furrowing into a <em>grave</em> frown, "do you realise... You <em>do</em> know, now, that High Magic is forbidden, and why."</p>
<p>"I know that it <em>is</em> forbidden. I <em>assume</em> it's because you, and people like you, think it's bloody terrifying, the idea of a completely ignorant four-year-old having the same potential to cause harm and havoc as a fully-trained battlemage simply by asking her imaginary friends for favours."</p>
<p>Aster snorted. She couldn't help it. The little pout Evans wore while referring to <em>Persephone</em> and <em>Hecate</em> as her <em>imaginary friends</em> was just too funny. "Well, that and ritualists are even harder to control than the average mage. Makes you a bigger threat to the Statute of Secrecy, and civility in general."</p>
<p>"It's still bloody stupid to outlaw something that a little child can come up with entirely on her own."</p>
<p>"And it is disturbing in the extreme that you would claim such a thing, Miss Evans, particularly because extended contact with this sort of magic can cause irreparable damage to a witch's mind." Wait, what? Dumbledore actually sounded legitimately concerned, but Aster had no idea what he was talking about. "You were not entirely wrong, a moment ago, to liken the practice of high ritual to a child speaking to imaginary friends. It reinforces a childish, superstitious way of thinking about the world, projecting humanity and agency where none truly exists, and as such warps practitioners' perception of the world around them."</p>
<p><em>Oooh. </em>That <em>argument</em>.</p>
<p>Narcissa smirked at him, while Evans tried to pick her jaw up off the ground. (Had she never actually talked to an atheist before?) "So very convenient for you, isn't it, Your Excellency, that one cannot be expected to <em>prove</em> a negative. I would, however, point out that dismissing our every attempt to demonstrate the existence of independent magical consciousness as the product of our desire to make such a demonstration being expressed through magic rather smacks of sticking one's fingers in one's ears and shouting nonsense in order to avoid hearing unpleasant truths. Which is, perhaps, more childish."</p>
<p>Dumbledore shook his head slowly, looking from one of them to the next with an expression of genuine sorrow, as though he truly wished to save them from their wrong-headed understanding of the world, but simply couldn't think how to get through to them. "I am well aware, Miss Black, that neither of us is going to convince the other that theirs is the objective truth about the nature of magic and the universe today. But we are not here to discuss abstract philosophy."</p>
<p>"If we're here to discuss me being possessed by Persephone, I kind of think we are. Unless you think I was faking that — I swear, I had no idea who Ariana was before Thom told me."</p>
<p>"Yes, but whether the figment you refer to as <em>Persephone</em> is an independent entity, or the product of the collective expectations of the assembled wizards projected upon the ambient magic, is not the issue at hand."</p>
<p>"She's <em>not</em> an independent entity, really, she's a particular metaphor that Magic uses to interact with humans — which, <em>yes</em>, is based on human stories and myths, not the other way around, but—"</p>
<p>"Just let it go, Asphodel," Aster advised her. "His understanding of magic is as logically consistent as the truth. There's no way to convince him he's wrong, and you're not winning any points by convincing His Excellency that you're even more of a lost cause than he thought. You were saying, sir, about the purpose of this meeting?"</p>
<p>"Yes, yes," Dumbledore muttered, nodding, though he still looked rather troubled. "As I was saying, Miss Evans, we are not here to discuss philosophy, but because I felt it necessary to entreat you, with all possible sincerity, to return to the path of the Light rather than to forage deeper into the shadows as you seem so intent upon doing. Your affinity for ritual magic, regardless of how natural you may think it, only serves to mislead you. I do know how...seductive, the ideals of the Dark and the practise of dark magics may seem, but pursuit of power all too often leads to the fostering of selfishness and evil in the hearts of men."</p>
<p>Evans glared at him. "The phrase you're looking for is <em>absolute power corrupts absolutely</em>. And if we're quoting aphorisms, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, <em>sir</em>. <em>And</em>, just because I think you're <em>wrong</em> about how a society should function, doesn't mean that I hold any sort of desire for personal power or influence, let alone that I intend to pursue such ends."</p>
<p>"Also, does that mean you fancy de Mort?" All three of them turned to look at Aster — which was exactly what she'd intended, distracting Dumbledore from Evans's repeated refusal to fall in line. "I can't be the only one who was thinking that, when he said the Dark is <em>seductive</em>."</p>
<p>"No, Miss Black," he said coldly, steepling his fingers and glaring at her over his half-moon spectacles. An unsubtle legilimency probe attempted to worm its way into her mind. She let him catch the thought that <em>Dumbledore is a terrible fucking liar</em> before pushing him out, all the while carefully maintaining her most innnocent expression<em>.</em> Dumbledore, like de Mort, wouldn't admit that he was reading your mind when he really shouldn't be, even to respond to blatantly insulting thoughts — the only thing he could reasonably do was ignore it. "What I mean is that, while the immediate appeal of certain Dark principles may be readily obvious, when one considers the realities of extending those principles to their logical extremes one realises that they are problematic to maintaining a complex society. It may seem simple, for example, to allow Houses to govern themselves however they choose, working out their grievances independently, but that is precisely the reason blood feuds have historically been so common among the more prominent Houses of Britain.</p>
<p>"Similarly, allowing free access to knowledge regardless of the potential dangers it may be used to create seems fair and harmless — they are only <em>books</em>, after all! Why should anyone be judged simply for <em>knowing</em> a thing, if they never act on it? But people are <em>human</em>. Given access to such resources, <em>some</em> person would no doubt use them to achieve wealth and power at the expense of the innocent, subsuming lives and magic to enhance his own or coercing them into serving him. Others, in the pursuit of greater knowledge and understanding, would certainly delve into the extremes of bio-alchemic possibility, producing unnatural horrors, or even destroy the world entirely in their attempts to communicate with realms and planes beyond our own."</p>
<p>"Yes, perhaps," Narcissa countered, a smirk in her tone at the prospect of reiterating a <em>very</em> familiar argument. "But attempting to force Houses into compliance with principles they do not support, when the mandate of the Wizengamot and the Ministry arises from its members, is fundamentally hypocritical. Blood feuds <em>are</em> most often the product of Houses attempting to settle grievances between them with violence, but what makes the Ministry any different from another House attempting to impose its will on us with threats of violent coercion? If the House of Black were to continue to practise our traditions freely—" Not that they had ever really <em>stopped</em>. "—would the Department of Law Enforcement not declare us to be enemies of the people — meaning, of course, those who actually hold positions of power, not <em>all</em> of the citizenry of Britain, or even a majority thereof — and attempt to physically prevent our doing so? What would differentiate such an action from that of the Houses of MacRath and Gentry declaring a blood feud against us in the Sixteenth Century? The insistence of the Ministry that their own use of violence is legitimate certainly doesn't."</p>
<p>Dumbledore looked like he would very much like to set Cissy's hair on fire for pointing out the hypocrisy inherent in exercising Ministry authority, but he refrained. "As I am sure you are well aware, Miss Black, your House was one of those which explicitly consented to the adoption of the Statute of Secrecy and the subsequent formation of the Ministry. It is not simply the <em>Ministry</em> who declares their monopoly on violence to be legitimate — it is the Wizengamot as a whole, of which the House of Black is a member. You are, in effect, yourselves legitimising its laws and the enforcement thereof."</p>
<p>"If we were to refuse to obey them, we would be explicitly withdrawing that consent. And, in handing their power to enforce their decisions over to the Ministry, the Wizengamot as a whole de-legitimised <em>itself</em>. Neither they nor the Department of Law Enforcement <em>could</em> stop prominent members of our House from openly supporting a Dark Lord, for example — which, given that the authority of the Wizengamot originally rested on its ability to muster a military response to such threats, argues they have no right to do so. Attempting to argue that the current system is more peaceful, civilised, or effective than House or Clan -centred government is <em>nearly</em> as absurd as banning the dissemination of knowledge about subsumption in an effort to prevent its use. The ability of a talented legilimens to learn to subsume a soul is no more dependent on academic study than the ability of a gifted four-year-old to discover High Ritual independently."</p>
<p>"Also, about the interdimensional rifts, Miskatonic only accidentally breaks the world about once a century," Aster added. That was...well, not <em>common</em> knowledge, at least <em>here</em>, but they <em>had</em> published accounts about all three of their near-world-ending incidents. They hadn't tried to <em>hide</em> them. Not that she didn't think that Dumbledore kind of had a point about maybe everyone and their mum not needing to know how to poke a hole in the universe, but still, acting like if they did they'd <em>definitely </em>destroy the world was silly. "And they <em>have</em> managed to fix them every time, so no harm done, really. And the Traditional solution to out of control metaphages is to let them self-destruct by eating too many people. It's less costly in terms of lives than trying to kill them, and usually doesn't take that long." Either that or the gods would arrange for their downfall, because if anyone were to get too powerful and immortal and entrenched society would stagnate, and that would be <em>boring</em> — but Dumbledore was an atheist, so that probably wasn't a convincing argument.</p>
<p>Evans shot her a look that Aster wasn't really able to interpret, but before she could say anything, Dumbledore interrupted, glaring at the lot of them. Aster fancied there was some degree of disappointment in the expression when it turned toward her. "I will have to invite you, Miss Black, to discuss political philosophy at some later date." Oh, good. That was exactly what <em>she</em> had been going to suggest. Convenient. "Whether it is preferable for a society to follow Light principles or Dark, or some degree of both, is <em>not</em> the point at hand!"</p>
<p>"Isn't it?" Evans asked, apparently sincerely. "If you're worried about me being seduced by the Dark — I'm with Aster, by the way, terrible choice of words, given that you're referring to my <em>biological father</em>—" Dumbledore went amusingly <em>pink</em>. "—exactly what they believe is <em>kind of important</em>."</p>
<p>"I am not so concerned, at the moment, that you may be swayed by their political arguments as by the charisma of such figures as Thom de Mort and Bellatrix Black, unwarily drawn into the organisation they represent, to be ensnared by their Dark Lord—"</p>
<p>"Er, point of order? De Mort <em>is</em> the Dark Lord," Aster reminded him. Yes, she knew that de Mort had gone to some trouble to keep those identities separate, but she wasn't actually on his side. It wasn't like she'd never told Jamie or Charlie that before, Dumbledore <em>should</em> know, even if he couldn't prove it.</p>
<p>"No, Miss Black, you are mistaken. Thom de Mort might portray himself as Lord Voldemort to their allies, but the true architect of the Knights of Walpurgis is a man by the name of Tom Riddle."</p>
<p>"...Yes, he and Thom de Mort are the same person."</p>
<p>"I understand that there is some confusion about that," Dumbledore said, completely oblivious to the fact that the only person confused here was himself. "But this is, I assure you, intentional. Riddle and de Mort, in order to make it more difficult to attack the true power at the head of their organisation, have been encouraging it for years. But I have met Tom Riddle — I knew him when he was but a boy — and Thom de Mort is not he."</p>
<p>"...Yes, he <em>has</em> been intentionally misleading people, but—"</p>
<p>"Let it go, Asteria," Evans interrupted. "You're not winning any points by convincing the Headmaster you're delusional. Besides, it doesn't matter whether there's one Thom or two, he's still a charismatic bastard either way. No one's debating <em>that</em>."</p>
<p>"Yes, so you see the cause for my concern, Miss Evans."</p>
<p>"Er...not really, no? I mean, sure, they're fun and easy to talk to, but talking to Bella about the feasibility of putting a witch on the moon isn't really likely to sway me to their side more than reading their bloody manifesto."</p>
<p>"Putting a <em>witch</em>...on the <em>moon</em>?" Dumbledore repeated, as though this was far more worthy of discussion than the fact that there was a bloody manifesto. Had <em>he</em> already known about it <em>too</em>? Damn it! Why didn't anyone ever tell Aster <em>anything</em>?!</p>
<p>Evans nodded earnestly. "Do <em>you</em> know if there's magic in space? Because it'll be a lot <em>simpler</em> if there is. If not, we're going to need a <em>lot</em> of quartz."</p>
<p>The old wizard blinked at her. "Do you know, I have no idea. But like so many other questions which have arisen today, this one is entirely tangential to our purpose here. Perhaps I shall just come straight out and say it, shall I?"</p>
<p>"Please, do," Cissy invited him, probably almost as annoyed by the conversational rambling as Dumbledore, because Evans was almost as incapable of sticking to a topic as Aster. ...Though she might have been intentionally trying to portray herself as a harmless, flighty little girl. If so, it appeared to be working — Dumbledore could be deceived by the apparent innocence of children <em>shockingly </em>easily for a man who had spent about <em>eight decades</em> surrounded by teenagers. Even if Evans was a cheating mind mage, that still seemed <em>awfully</em> naïve of him.</p>
<p>The old wizard's grim seriousness returned as he shook off his space-magic confusion. "Mister Potter informs me, Miss Evans, that you have been practising necromancy. <em>Outside</em> of Sunday's ritual. He claims that you are, in fact, a necromancer."</p>
<p>He... He <em>what?!</em></p>
<p>Evans gave no hint that she found the accusation alarming. In fact, she gave a sort of disgusted scoff, saying, "So what, if I won't date him, he'll accuse me of studying restricted magics? Does he even know what necromancy <em>is</em>? I mean, if either of us is a necromancer, you'd expect it to be him, you know, with the whole Potter-Peverell thing, but I'm pretty sure he'd never even been to the Revel before last weekend."</p>
<p>
  <em>But...</em>
</p>
<p>"So you deny that you've been engaging in ritual magics outside of the holiday celebrations here at school? If I were to ask Minerva to search your room, she would find nothing to suggest otherwise?"</p>
<p>He'd promised he wouldn't say anything! He'd <em>promised!</em></p>
<p>"Well she certainly wouldn't find anything that suggests I've been raising the dead. But what would you <em>expect</em> a ritualist to have on hand? Candles? Chalk and charcoal? Maybe a fancy letter-opener, and some potions ingredients that've strayed from their kit? Not exactly damning. I will admit that the fact that I have a diary you won't be able to open without destroying it <em>could </em>be construed as suspicious, but such precautions seem reasonable to me, given that I do spend a considerable amount of time in the muggle world over the course of the year, and if it were to fall into the wrong hands it would almost certainly be damaging to the Statute of Secrecy."</p>
<p>It didn't really <em>matter</em> that Evans would (apparently) be able to talk her way out of the accusation, Jamie had <em>promised</em> Aster that he wouldn't report her at all!</p>
<p>"Mister Potter seemed very convinced that the younger Miss Black believes you to be a necromancer," Dumbledore said, gesturing toward Aster with the slightest of nods. "I hardly think she should come to such a conclusion without evidence."</p>
<p>Aster couldn't form words at the moment, but that was fine, Evans had it under control. "I'm pretty sure she came to that conclusion because of the effects of <em>your</em> delaying of Sunday's ritual, professor. We've spoken about it, and— If you don't stop trying to legilimise me, I swear I'll report you."</p>
<p>"Asteria, are you feeling quite well?" Narcissa asked, in the awkward silence that followed, as Evans held her ground and Dumbledore refused to acknowledge that he was doing anything as skeevy as trying to read the mind of an 'underage' muggle-raised student (which was relevant because, even though she <em>did</em> know enough occlumency to defend herself, she couldn't be <em>expected</em> to, and the Light was supposed to give a shite about protecting 'children' who couldn't be expected to defend themselves).</p>
<p>"No. I– I need to go!" Her voice sounded strange, even to her, high and strangled.</p>
<p>Evans broke off her furious glaring contest with the Headmaster. "Aster? What's wrong?"</p>
<p>"It's— He promised! He <em>promised</em> me he wouldn't— If he told someone, and they actually <em>believed</em> him, if they tried to kill you, Bella would kill <em>him</em>. And– And he promised he wouldn't, but—"</p>
<p>"And you believed him? Dark Powers, you really are an idiot, aren't you," Narcissa said, smirking broadly at Aster's pain. "You should know better than that. The Light has no <em>loyalty</em>, no <em>honour</em>, not even a half-decent sense of self-preservation. He—"</p>
<p>"Shut up! Shut <em>up</em>, Narcissa, you fucking <em>cunt</em>, I-I need to– to—"</p>
<p>"He doesn't <em>love</em> you, Trixie. He doesn't even <em>respect</em> you."</p>
<p>Evans whipped around and made a valiant attempt to smack Narcissa across the face for her. Aster could have warned her that wouldn't work. <em>She</em> might let people hit her if she actually deserved it — that comment about Evans asking Snape to mind-rape her mum, for instance, had been a bit out of line. But Cissy never did.</p>
<p>She blocked the slap, giving Evans a cool, Society smile. "You <em>really</em> don't want to start that fight, Evans."</p>
<p>"You would be surprised how little that matters, Narcissa Zaniah." Cissy startled slightly at Evans using her second name to emphasise her disapproval rather than slipping back to icy, formal distance. "I'm not letting you kick Aster when she's already on the ground bleeding."</p>
<p>"She's– She's right, though. You think so, too, you—" Fuck, she was going to start crying. Fucking <em>damn</em> it! She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, trying to force herself to focus on <em>literally anything</em> other than Jamie's complete and utter <em>betrayal</em> — she had <em>just told him</em> how important it was to keep your promises, hadn't she?! And he just went and—</p>
<p>"I do, yes. That doesn't mean I'm going to let her hurt you when I'm sitting <em>right here</em>. What part of <em>I take care of what's mine</em> did you not understand?"</p>
<p>She couldn't do it. She couldn't sit there — she wasn't sitting, actually, she was on her feet, when had that happened? — with Evans staring at her like she could see into her fucking <em>soul</em>, acting like the Lady she most definitely <em>wasn't</em>, even though <em>Aster</em> had betrayed <em>her</em>, trying to explain what she was to Jamie, she <em>knew</em> that Aster had told Jamie she was a necromancer, Dumbledore had said as much, and she hadn't even <em>blinked</em>— She couldn't just sit there with Evans holding out her hand, offering to be everything Aster <em>needed</em> her to be— No, more, just, going ahead and <em>doing</em> it, standing up to Narcissa for her and being <em>worthy</em> of the respect and loyalty Jamie had just ground beneath his heel and fucking <em>pissed on</em>. <em>That</em> was even <em>worse</em>, in its own way, than Narcissa's <em>I told you so</em>'s.</p>
<p>Because she <em>wanted</em> to say <em>yes</em>, to let Evans be her Lady, because even if she couldn't actually do a single bloody thing to protect her, she at least knew that she <em>should</em>. And she <em>would</em>, even if it meant picking a fight with <em>Narcissa</em>, in front of bloody <em>Dumbledore</em>, getting her arse kicked and damaging her own reputation, quite possibly irreparably. She would do it, because <em>you'd be surprised how little that matters</em>, and protecting the people you'd sworn to protect — fulfilling the vows you made to them — was what a Lord who was worthy of one's loyalty <em>did</em>. Aster didn't <em>trust</em> Evans, she didn't know if the manipulative bitch was just doing it because she <em>knew</em> that was what Aster would be thinking (she had told her as much, but even if that was the only reason she was doing it, it still showed she paid a <em>hell</em> of a lot more attention to Aster than James), but she still wanted to—</p>
<p>She fled.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Asphodel shamelessly takes advantage of Aster's fragile emotional state (II)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heads up, this chapter involves a lot of very self-harm-y thoughts and self-justification for physical punishment/abuse.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One of the things I really like about the House of Black is the way they're always there for each other, no matter how much they fucking hate each other. I'm pretty sure I've never seen Aster and Cissy in the same room for more than five minutes without sniping at each other, except when they're dealing with an outside threat, like <em>talking to Dumbledore.</em></p>
<p>Yes, Aster, it's still adorable that you two thought I needed help talking to him. I might not have known all the relevant <em>laws</em> at the time, but I've never <em>not</em> been able to play authority figures, and Dumbledore in particular was easy to manipulate because he was so very inclined to believe his own interpretation of events — witness his insistence that there were <em>two</em> Thoms. And ninety per cent of a convincing lie is telling someone what they already believe and want to hear. Such as that I'm a perfectly harmless little muggle-raised witch whose greatest crimes were committed entirely in ignorance, and might still be persuaded that her wise old professor has the right of it, and perhaps more caution is merited, <em>et cetera, et cetera</em>.</p>
<p>Personally, I'm not a fan of Dorea Potter, but even she recognises that she owes at least that much to her natal house. After Aster ran away because <em>feelings are scary</em> and <em>I don't want to want the thing I really, really want</em>, Dumbledore called Lady Potter to come deal with her goddaughter being insane, little realising, apparently, that she would have as little idea what to do about that as any of the rest of us. (Yes, I'll admit, I was as much at a loss as to what to do about you running off as anyone else. I can't figure out how to fix people when they fucking run away from me, you know!) And I do think that it's one of the more redeeming things she's ever done that, when Narcissa decided to call Bella in, Dorea actually defended Bella to Dumbledore (despite her obvious hatred for her), arguing that whatever else she might be, she <em>did</em> care about the children who were her responsibility, and would know how to act in your best interests where they couldn't.</p>
<p>For that matter, it's probably one of <em>Dumbledore's</em> more redeeming moments that he actually swallowed his pride (and his fear of her) and let her come into the school. A decision I'm sure he quickly regretted, given that she was far more concerned with punishing James Potter for being a fucking moron than anything else. Though the fact that he was attempting to dissuade me from practising ritual magic was a close second. She was, perhaps unsurprisingly, far less concerned with finding you and dealing with the consequences of anything you might do while trying to run away from your feelings than establishing a plan to keep that fucking moron away from you for the next several months, at least, lest you completely lose your shite with him and do something that Dorea, at least, would find...<em>regrettable</em>.</p>
<p>Of course, she did agree that you had to be tracked down and brought back to the Castle eventually. She delegated the task of talking you down and convincing you to stop being a dog to me because, in her words, <em>no, you're kidding, right, this is perfect. You'll be </em>much <em>better for her than Potter.</em> Apparently she'd been thinking I'd be a good Lady for you to follow since before she even knew I was Thom's daughter — like, since you told her I completely fucked up your relationship with Potter intentionally. So, kudos to Bella for calling that one...</p>
<p>Though, honestly, I think our relationship has always been a little more equal than the straightforward Lord/Vassal thing Thom and Bella have, if only because you did have a point about me not knowing all the shite I really needed to know to be a fucking noble, let alone a bloody <em>Black</em>. I was following your lead almost as much as you were following mine for a <em>long</em> time, even after New Avalon was established. If we <em>have</em> to compare ourselves to them, I'd actually say we're more like Bella and Mira. And I'm Bella. I mean, in hindsight, you didn't really need someone to <em>follow</em>, in terms of ambitions and morality, so much as you just needed someone emotionally stable to lean on to help balance you out.</p>
<p>Anyway, I'm wandering. That's basically what you missed between you running away and me coming to find you, in case you were wondering.</p>
<p>—Asphodel</p><hr/>
<p>Evans found her more quickly than she expected.</p>
<p>Aster had had a head start because obviously Evans had still had to deal with Dumbledore and that whole <em>no, of course I'm not actually a necromancer, that was just Aster misinterpreting the effects of a ritual, and what do you mean Potter said de Mort said something about </em>soul resonance<em>, I'm sure he hasn't the foggiest idea what he's on about</em> thing, and she hadn't gone to hide under her bed again — this wasn't a <em>curl up in a ball and die </em>sort of miserable, it was more of a <em>run and keep running until you literally can't anymore</em> sort of miserable. She'd taken off into the forest in Padfoot's form, racing through trees and underbrush for <em>miles</em> — she didn't really know how <em>far</em>, but she knew she'd crossed the ward line (it <em>tingled</em>), and she <em>thought</em> she'd kept going almost twice as long after as before (but again, time was weird as a dog) — until she'd collapsed at the mouth of a little cave halfway up the nearest mountain.</p>
<p>It definitely should've taken Evans longer to find her, but she fucking <em>cheated</em>, got Bella to shadow-walk straight to her instead of using normal tracking charms like a normal bloody person.</p>
<p>"She's in there," Bella said, presumably gesturing toward the cave.</p>
<p>Evans sighed. "Thanks. Are you going to help me talk her out?"</p>
<p>"Hmm, no." Bella sounded a bit amused. "I need to go back and have a chat with dear Cousin Jamie about keeping our word — and staying the <em>fuck</em> away from Aster from now until <em>forever</em>."</p>
<p>That was... Well, she wanted to say it wasn't good, because <em>no</em> child of the House would want to "have a chat" with Bella about breaking their word to another member of the House, and <em>Dorea</em> was a Black which meant her son was <em>kind of</em> a Black, if Bella wanted to consider him one, in the sense that he should <em>definitely</em> have known better, so he'd be lucky to get out of it without being set on fire, or at the very least being put under that feels-like-being-set-on-fire curse Cygnus liked so much.</p>
<p>But on the other hand, she couldn't much bring herself to <em>care</em> what happened to James fucking Potter at the moment, or possibly ever again. She tucked her nose more firmly into her stomach, very pointedly <em>not</em> turning back into a human to tell Bella not to hurt that...that <em>complete fucking bastard</em>.</p>
<p>"Oh, good, maybe I <em>won't </em>have to slip him an undetectable poison or something."</p>
<p>"You're adorable. You'll be fine. You have Cissy's mirror, right? Call me if Aster's not up to apparating you back to the gates." She must have <em>walked</em> away again, then, because a few seconds later, Evans knelt to stick her head into the cave's rather low entrance.</p>
<p>"Aster?"</p>
<p>Aster stayed exactly where she was, back pressed into the far wall of the cave, curled into the smallest ball she could manage, too tired to keep running, and horribly thirsty, but too miserable to change back to a human and deal with such petty physical needs as <em>water</em>.</p>
<p>Evans sighed, crawling in to join her. There wasn't really enough room for her — it was a <em>very</em> small cave, barely more than an overhang, the space more a product of the floor receding a bit than the ceiling rising. She couldn't even stand up properly as Padfoot.</p>
<p>"Ouch! Jesus <em>fuck</em>!" Apparently Evans had also realised that, though the space <em>did</em> open up a <em>little</em> once you got past the entrance, it wasn't nearly enough to stand up. "Close your eyes, I'm casting a light charm." It was bright enough in the tiny space that it was still a bit painful through her eyelids. Evans obviously hadn't closed <em>hers</em>, because there was another thunk of head on stone as she startled herself with her own charm. "<em>Aah</em>, God <em>damn</em> it, that's <em>worse</em>!" It cut out almost immediately, Evans scrabbling around to a sitting position uncomfortably close to Aster, her scent surrounding them almost overwhelmingly in the cramped cave, the heat of her body very obvious compared to the cold stone, and her fingers creeping over Padfoot's back, accidentally brushing her fur the wrong way as she presumably tried to find her head.</p>
<p>Aster shuffled around enough to rest her jaw on Evans's knee, just so she'd stop doing that. Not at all because ear-scratches were even better than ice cream when she felt like complete and utter <em>shite</em>. Not that she should let Evans be nice to her, she didn't deserve it, seeing as it was <em>her</em> own stupid fault Jamie even knew that Evans was a necromancer to report it. But she clearly hadn't been arrested or anything, and Aster was weak.</p>
<p>"Oh, hi." There was what seemed like a very long pause. "Nice hiding spot. Very cozy." Was she really going to try to make conversation about nothing, with a <em>dog</em>? "I was worried about you, you know." Apparently she was. "<em>Narcissa</em> was worried, even. I think she realised almost immediately that she'd gone too far, that you really weren't okay. She followed you out, she just couldn't catch up, so she came back to make sure Dumbledore didn't pack me off to Azkaban while she was looking for you.</p>
<p>"Dumbledore really had <em>no</em> idea what to do, though he <em>does</em> seem to think that refusing to let Narcissa be a complete and total <em>bitch</em> to you suggests there's some redeeming quality about me, even if I may occasionally get slightly possessed because I'm still a poor, ignorant muggleborn who doesn't know how to ground herself properly when rituals get slightly derailed, no matter who my biological father is. We had a <em>very</em> brief conversation while we were waiting for Dorea Potter to floo up."</p>
<p>Oh, fuck, they called <em>Dorea</em>? Wait, what was she thinking, of <em>course</em> Dumbledore had called Dorea, she was supposed to be Aster's guardian. But then, why was Bella...?</p>
<p>"I like her. She's nicer than I expected. Stressed at the moment, obviously, but very...mumsy. I bet she and my mum would get on great." Yeah, they probably would. "Of course, she didn't have any better idea what to do about you flipping out than Dumbledore did. Well, her first thought was to make sure that you hadn't run off to murder Potter, which I could have told them you hadn't — did, actually, they just didn't believe me, which... Honestly I'm not sure how I knew you wouldn't have, either. Maybe you just don't strike me as the prideful sort, snapping because that fucking arse dishonoured you. Or maybe it's just that it was beyond obvious he was the only thing holding you together. I've never seen someone just...<em>shatter</em> like that, before. I don't imagine lashing out at the cause of your distress is high on your list of priorities when you're busy collapsing in on yourself."</p>
<p>No, it wasn't. At the moment, she didn't think she ever wanted to see James again, actually. Even if it was to <em>actually</em> break his bloody nose. Maybe it was a good thing Bella was having a 'chat' with him. Though...she couldn't go home again, she realised. To the Potters', she meant. She just...couldn't. Even if Dorea still wanted her around — and there was no guarantee of that, with her thinking that Aster might be capable of killing her son — fucking Bella and her scare tactics... She wouldn't be able to– to live in the same house as...<em>him</em>, even for just a few weeks.</p>
<p>"Anyway, Narcissa just kind of...announced that she was calling Bella to come find you and deal with...everything. And Dumbledore and Dorea just...kind of went along with it? Since they didn't really know what they should be doing. Cissa and I filled Bella in when she got there. I think her being so...well, you know how she is, all unconcerned all the time, that helped. Harder for the adults to panic, you know, when the expert on the subject of you being insane is more concerned about how you're going to be treated when you go back than finding you or making sure you don't hurt anyone, including yourself. Actually tore into Dorea for a bit, apparently she was supposed to <em>tell</em> Bella if Potter was going to completely fuck you over like this, but Potter didn't tell <em>Dorea</em> — Bella went and dragged him out of the Tower to explain himself, shadow-walking really does seem like the most <em>useful</em> thing — and the complete <em>tool</em> actually tried to <em>defend</em> himself. Apparently you scared him, insisting that Bella was going to kill him if he told anyone that I'm a black mage. Which was sweet of you, but entirely unnecessary.</p>
<p>"Not that I'm complaining, really. If you hadn't, and he hadn't been a complete fucking <em>idiot</em>, you'd probably still be stuck on him, wouldn't you? How he can <em>not know</em> that you <em>don't</em> break your word to people who very obviously <em>desperately</em> need someone stable to rely on, I have <em>no</em> idea, bloody moron... And isn't keeping your promises something they teach all the little noble kids? Cissa definitely made it sound like that, when she was telling me about priorities and principles, and how you're supposed to figure out the right thing to do, you know, back when we were kids."</p>
<p><em>Oh, right</em>. Aster kept forgetting that Evans had somehow managed to convince Cissy to teach her how to fit in. It was deeply, <em>deeply</em> ironic that the girl who'd been raised by bloody <em>muggles</em> had made more of an effort to understand where Aster (and the rest of the Dark) were coming from than her own bloody <em>cousin</em>. Maybe she should've made a point of teaching him, it just...hadn't occurred to her, that he wouldn't know such <em>basic fucking shite</em> as <em>you keep your fucking promises</em>, especially when you make them to people who <em>matter</em>. But then, maybe Aster <em>didn't </em>matter to him. He certainly hadn't been <em>acting </em>like she did for the past two months.</p>
<p>"But it's better this way. It really is. I know it hurts — I still can't believe you feel shite like that <em>all the time</em>, no wonder you're a complete headcase. But I meant it when I said he doesn't deserve you..."</p>
<p>She trailed off, fingers working silently for a few minutes, maybe.</p>
<p>"I didn't mean that."</p>
<p>
  <em>Eh?</em>
</p>
<p>"Not about Potter — he's a right arse, he doesn't deserve you <em>at all</em> — but you're not a headcase."</p>
<p>If Aster were human at the moment, she would have a derisive scoff for that.</p>
<p>"You're beautiful, you know. I mean— Yes, you're all delicate and striking, I know you know you're pretty, but... I don't know what I'm trying to say.</p>
<p>"The way you're always <em>there</em>, doing whatever you're doing, with one-hundred per cent enthusiasm and everything's always all or nothing and the best thing ever or the end of the bloody world... Feeling everything so strongly, and still not holding back to avoid getting hurt, like this, even though you <em>have</em> to <em>know</em> you're going to get hurt sometimes, and you still throw yourself into everything you do with absolutely no reservation, like whatever the costs might be they don't matter, it's worth it, like it's not even a choice, but if it were you'd do it anyway. That's beautiful, in a stark absolutes and dramatic contrasts sort of way.</p>
<p>"And you're that way about people, too. Like, most people, you don't care. Tina and Mary and the rest of them, they could go die in a fire, for all you care. But the ones who matter, <em>really matter</em>. They're your <em>everything</em>. And maybe I was wrong when I said you didn't really love him — yes, cherish this, it's an historic moment, me admitting I was wrong. I still stand by it being a shite relationship for you, and I still really don't think that's what most people mean when they talk about love, but maybe for crazy people who don't do anything halfway, <em>ever</em>, being completely obsessive and madly devoted and making someone else the centre of your entire world <em>is</em> love, all the adoration and desire to please and willingness to overlook their flaws taken to a completely illogical extreme.</p>
<p>"Anyway, now that I get that, I just...kind of think the way you are about people — not just Potter, but the people who <em>matter</em> in general — is really romantic? Except not really in a flowers and chocolates and cheesy poetry way, it's just <em>sweet</em>. Adorable and endearing and...beautiful. And Potter never, <em>never</em> appreciated it."</p>
<p><em>But you do</em>.</p>
<p>And that...didn't make it better, really. She didn't want to—</p>
<p>She knew she was a crazy person, okay, and she knew that she had a tendency to make stupid, snap decisions, and she didn't want to... She didn't want to just give herself to Evans because Evans seemed like she'd be a better lord to follow than James, and Aster was completely broken and not thinking clearly at the moment, and hurting, and it would just make everything better if she had someone...someone she could let make all of the hard decisions and tell her what to do and who to be. Which was <em>not</em> a good reason to swear fealty to someone, it was a <em>crazy person</em> reason, and that was...bad?</p>
<p>Yes, bad, she knew it was supposed to be bad. That sane people, and maybe even Aster when she wasn't a pile of tiny broken pieces looking for someone to put her back together, would say it was bad. She one-thousand per cent <em>should not</em> throw herself at Evans just because James had betrayed her and she didn't think she'd ever be able to bring herself to <em>look</em> at him again, let alone <em>trust</em> him. But Evans was <em>here</em>, and she <em>understood</em>, or at least she was doing a <em>damn</em> good job faking it, and Aster had betrayed <em>her</em> almost as badly as James had betrayed Aster, breaking that promise. Even if Evans <em>had</em> been just...obviously possessed by fucking <em>Persephone</em> a moment before, Aster still shouldn't have told James that she was <em>actually a necromancer</em>, as in Death talks to her outside of holiday rituals — even if that was the sort of thing <em>anyone</em> should have been able to put together from watching that little show, <em>James</em> couldn't have, and it was <em>definitely</em> breaking their understanding to go and tell him just because he was scared and confused and she wanted to help him more than she wanted to uphold her truce with Evans. She hadn't even <em>thought</em> about it, at the time, she'd just...</p>
<p>"M'sorry," she mumbled, shifting back to her human form.</p>
<p>"You don't need to be," Evans said calmly. "It's not your fault Potter's a stupid fucking arse."</p>
<p>"No, not about... I shouldn't have told him. It's my fault he even knew, about you and Persephone. I did tell him you're a necromancer, at the ritual. And then the next day he said he thought you were evil, and I panicked because I thought he was going to do something stupid and I scared him, and I ruined <em>everything</em>, and— I'm <em>sorry</em>, okay?"</p>
<p>"I knew what you meant. And it's fine. You did everything you could to stop me from being all fae and unnerving, and making it obvious as <em>fuck</em> that I belong to my Lady. That's on <em>me</em>, maybe even on <em>Her</em>, a bit. But it's definitely not on you. It's not your fault Thom and Bella decided to come to the ritual — <em>I</em> invited them, remember? — and it's not your fault Dumbledore decided to be a complete arse about it."</p>
<p>Aster groaned. "It <em>was</em>, though! I told James, and he told Dumbledore — <em>none</em> of this would have happened if I hadn't, or, hell, if I'd just kept my fucking mouth shut about your mum, we could've watched muggle comedians and you wouldn't even know you were adopted!"</p>
<p>"Yes, and then my mother would probably <em>never </em>have told me I was adopted. And if you hadn't figured out who my sire was, I wouldn't have realised that I don't have to pretend to be Prefect Evans anymore, and I don't think you understand how much I <em>hate</em> playing Prefect Evans. Don't even try to tell me you think I'd prefer to be blissfully ignorant here. And I'm sure Dumbledore would have flipped out as soon as he realised they crossed the wardline, even if you <em>hadn't</em> warned Potter. <em>I'm not angry with you</em>, Aster. About <em>any</em> of it. I wouldn't be sitting in this tiny fucking cave with you in the middle of nowhere if I were."</p>
<p>"You <em>should be</em>, though!" Aster practically wailed, wincing at how loud her own voice was in the confined space. "I-I betrayed you! I— You said you wanted me, and I <em>knew</em> he didn't, not like– like <em>that</em>, <em>following</em> him, and I still— I was trying to make him feel better, I didn't even <em>think</em>, and—"</p>
<p>"Asteria?"</p>
<p>She bit her lip to stop her hysterical babbling. "<em>Hmm</em>?"</p>
<p>"I knew you were conflicted, and you weren't ready to let go of him yet, and, again, I was being <em>painfully obvious</em>. If you hadn't said something, Thom would have — he filled me in on what I missed on Monday, you realise. You really, <em>really</em> didn't do anything worth apologising for."</p>
<p>"I-I <em>did</em>, though," she protested weakly, tears leaking from her eyes, her voice growing thick as she entirely failed to hold back the snivelling. "I <em>have</em> to have — I-I fuck up <em>everything</em>, I can't— I can't not be crazy, and I can't go back to the Potters', and Bella has to keep coming and fixing things for me, but even <em>she</em> can't fix <em>this</em>, and—"</p>
<p>"<em>Oh</em>... This isn't really about <em>me</em>, is it? Sorry. Sometimes I'm slow like that."</p>
<p>"It <em>is</em> about you, because you ruin <em>everything</em>. If you hadn't decided to fuck with me and James none of this would ever have happened." She tried to force herself to believe that, but she couldn't quite. Not now, knowing that their priorities were so different, that James didn't– didn't <em>care</em> about her, or even about keeping his promises. Evans was right, he didn't understand her and he wasn't worth following, she just...hadn't seen it until he'd slapped her across the fucking face with it. "That's not true," she mumbled. "It's not your fault. It's... I'm just a fuck-up, okay? I'm <em>bad</em>, and <em>I'm</em> the one who ruins everything, and I just— I can't— I'm <em>sorry</em>. I broke everything and I don't know how to fix it, and– and you can't just say it's <em>fine</em>, I don't need to apologise, because it's not, and I <em>do</em> I just...don't know...<em>how</em>."</p>
<p>Evans's hand paused in its ceaseless petting — Aster really wasn't entirely certain she even realised she kept doing that even when Aster became human again. An air of tension and hesitation crept in around them, though she didn't <em>sound</em> uncertain when she spoke. "Would it make it easier to forgive yourself if I...punished you, somehow?"</p>
<p>"I... What?"</p>
<p>"It's not my forgiveness you need, you know that. And — tell me if I'm way off base here, or something, but — I think you feel like you've fucked up so majorly that you can't just decide it's all okay, even though from where I'm standing it kind of is. I mean, obviously you're still hurting, and you're scared and confused because you don't know what you're doing, but you didn't hurt anyone — other than yourself, I mean — and you're out of a really fucking <em>terrible</em> relationship, now — Potter <em>wasn't good for you</em> — and you may be conflicted about the Blacks, and me, but you know Bella's still there for you, and I <em>know</em> that matters, so...things could be worse. A <em>lot</em> worse. And you know that. You just don't want to feel good about blowing up your entire life, even if it does make room to build a better one. You...think you <em>deserve</em> to hurt over this, like you need to earn the right to <em>not</em> beat yourself up over...fucking up <em>everything</em>, even if everything was already kind of fucked up. So...would it help?"</p>
<p>That...wasn't off base. Not at all, honestly. And that was...kind of disturbing as hell, really. "...You're kind of terrifying, Evans."</p>
<p>"So you've mentioned." Aster could <em>hear</em> her rolling her eyes. "And I take it that means I'm not wrong. But it doesn't really answer my question."</p>
<p>Did she feel like she deserved to suffer? Well...yes. She'd done <em>wrong</em> — she <em>was</em> wrong. And maybe it was just growing up in the House of Black, but yeah, if you fucked up she did kind of feel on some level that you deserved to hurt over it. Like she'd deserved the Dark making her transformation as painful as possible for what she'd done to the Family Magic and the House, and she'd deserved Bella's cruciatus for enjoying the Yule sacrifice — even like she'd deserved to be slapped for that comment about Evans's mum. (Like James deserved whatever Bella did to him for breaking his word.)</p>
<p>Would asking Evans to hurt her mean she didn't have to hurt <em>herself</em> over it, wallowing in her guilt and failure and misery? She...didn't know.</p>
<p>But...it kind of sounded like it might? It actually sounded really fucking appealing, in a sick, twisted, <em>I should not want this</em> sort of way.</p>
<p>"...<em>Maybe</em>," she admitted, trying not to sound too eager about the idea. <em>(Because, yes, Aster, you </em>definitely <em>need to worry about sounding creepily eager about the idea of someone hurting you in front of the person who </em>just suggested the idea<em>.</em>)</p>
<p>"Okay. I'm going to need a little more direction than that, though. I mean, are we talking, oh, I don't know, like...spanking, or twenty lashes, or pain curses, or what? What seems appropriate, here?"</p>
<p>Good question. "Do you know how to use a fire-whip?" The burns lasted after the welts faded, but they weren't <em>permanent</em>, or terribly debilitating. That seemed...reasonable. In a completely unreasonable way, but, on a scale of <em>asking someone to hurt you</em>...</p>
<p>"Um, no. I would almost definitely put my own eye out. Lashing hexes and cutting curses I can do. Actually physically whipping someone, not something I've practised. If you want me to physically hit you with something, I'll switch you, but no actual whips." There was something decidedly <em>odd</em> about someone offering to switch you as though it was some sort of consolation because they couldn't actually whip you, while petting you and playing with your hair.</p>
<p>"Lashing hexes, then. Dark ones." They'd sting more, magically as well as physically.</p>
<p>"How many?"</p>
<p>"...I don't <em>know</em>. Until I say <em>stop</em>? Or, I guess you should probably stop if I pass out."</p>
<p>Evans snorted. "<em>Probably</em>. Okay, get up."</p>
<p>"What, really?"</p>
<p>Evans poked her in the shoulder. "Get up, we're going outside."</p>
<p>"No, I got <em>that</em>—" The little cave-like space was so small Evans probably couldn't even point her wand at Aster properly. "It's just—" She just...hadn't expected Evans to be all...serious about it. It wasn't just some vague hypothetical, they were actually going to do this. Right now. Which was...kind of silly, she hadn't really thought she <em>wasn't</em> serious it was just...weird. The whole situation. Just...really <em>fucking</em> weird. "Never mind."</p>
<p>She scrambled out of the hole as ordered, the light of the moon — nearly full, should she ask Moony if he wanted her to come on Saturday? or just try to explain that she couldn't, not if James was going to be there? — almost too bright after the darkness of the cave. And <em>cold</em>, she hadn't realised how much their body heat had warmed the little hollow. Evans followed, brushing dirt off the seat of her muggle jeans — the ones she'd intentionally worn to meet with Dumbledore, because she wasn't about to let him forget that she'd absolutely been raised by muggles, regardless of her parentage — her navy jumper almost black in this light.</p>
<p>She gave the area around them a considering look, clearing the ground with a few wind-charms.</p>
<p>"Here?"</p>
<p>"Did you have somewhere else in mind? Strip."</p>
<p>Well, no, she hadn't. She did as she was told.</p>
<p>"And kneel...here, facing that way." Evans pointed slightly up-hill, away from the cave, positioning Aster so that she'd have a clear view of her back, the moon slightly behind them to their right.</p>
<p>Aster shivered as a breeze drifted through the already-cold November air, and again as the icy sting of a sterilisation charm washed over her back. She giggled, teeth chattering slightly. Right. Evans was a would-be healer, of <em>course</em> she'd make sure any skin she broke was clean first. Though, there was something...<em>deeply ironic</em>, Aster thought, about a healer dealing out punishment lashes at all. Even if she was kind of doing Aster a favour. Maybe.</p>
<p>The first strike came without warning. Not <em>entirely</em>, she could feel the spell, dark magic flying toward her, she could have dodged it, but there was no incantation, no <em>are you ready</em> or <em>are you sure</em>, and no lecturing like Walburga would have given her, no <em>I'm going to rub your nose in what you've done wrong</em>.</p>
<p>Not that she <em>needed</em> Evans to tell her what she'd done wrong, she knew probably better than Evans herself. Betraying the House and losing what was, as miserable as they had been, the home and family she'd known all her life; completely <em>failing</em> Jamie, first by screwing Evans and then by almost making him an unwitting accomplice in Snape's death, and <em>then </em>by becoming Asteria and making it impossible for him to see her as his best mate anymore — by still liking Bella even though she was <em>evil</em> and the <em>enemy</em>, and questioning the Light and Dumbledore and why exactly they were fighting this bloody war anyway; realising she'd given her honour into the hands of a faithless fucking <em>weasel</em> — she should have known better, should have known that if she couldn't tell him what he meant to her he couldn't be what she needed him to be, but she was a fucking <em>idiot</em>, she'd just let him– let him <em>destroy</em> her, blow after blow.</p>
<p>He'd <em>wanted </em>to kick her out of their room, hadn't been able to see that she was still the same bloody person now as she had been over the summer — he'd <em>told</em> her she was disturbing, <em>to her face</em> — but even when she'd still been Sirius he thought she was weird, not right, spending half the summer hanging out with wilderfolk and vampires and muggle vagrants. He'd <em>told</em> her that he didn't want her to follow him, that he couldn't be what she needed, and she'd refused to hear it, convinced herself she could– that she'd <em>manage</em>, they'd <em>figure it out</em> — that if she pretended he hadn't said it, maybe he could pretend he hadn't meant it, and everything would be <em>fine</em>. She'd <em>kept trusting him</em>, when he'd given her <em>every</em> reason not to, every reason to– to just go back to following Bella's example, or Evans, or Dorea! She was such a fucking idiot — Dorea had managed to leave the House and join the Light, she should have talked to Dorea! Except Dorea was just as scared of her as James. Even more, maybe — James didn't really understand what she was capable of, the horrible things she'd done as a child, how much she <em>enjoyed</em> being a bad person, even though she knew it was wrong, knew <em>she</em> was wrong—</p>
<p>The first strike landed exactly in the centre of her back, drawing a cold line up to her right shoulder blade, but only for a moment before the blood rushed back, inflaming abused flesh, the line growing hot as the pain moved deeper and spread, radiating from the rising welt, the rest of her back tingling as well. She tensed, anticipating the next blow.</p>
<p>It didn't come.</p>
<p>She'd hissed, inhaling sharply, though she hadn't flinched, still sitting on her heels, posture absolutely, rigidly correct, head held high. And Evans had hesitated.</p>
<p>"We don't have to do this if you don't want to, Aster."</p>
<p>"I don't." She didn't actually <em>like</em> being hurt, she wasn't <em>that</em> fucked in the head! But...she kind of thought Evans had had a point, about her needing to punish herself. If they <em>stopped,</em> she was just going to keep feeling sick and guilty and miserable, and weak on top of that. "But keep going."</p>
<p>She wasn't really sure whether it said good things about Evans that she did, just reminding Aster that she could say stop whenever she wanted to be done.</p>
<p>Sane people would probably say she should've just stunned Aster and dragged her off to a mind-healer, but Aster kind of <em>really</em> appreciated that she didn't. And it wasn't a bad idea, either. It <em>did</em> help, each stinging, freezing-hot impact driving back the guilt and confusion and making her focus on something <em>real</em>, instead of the darkness and self-hatred clawing at her heart.</p>
<p>It stopped hurting after a while.</p>
<p>Not like she couldn't feel it, but like going numb to the fact that it <em>hurt</em>, lashes landing every ten seconds like clockwork, almost impersonal. Most people who'd beaten Aster, they <em>meant</em> it. They were angry, punishing her for failing <em>them</em>. They were <em>invested </em>in seeing her hurt — furious, their efforts waxing and waning with their rage, or sadistic, enjoying her pain, pushing the torture toward a sort of increasingly painful climax.</p>
<p>Evans...wasn't. She didn't hesitate, not after Aster told her to keep going, but she didn't get the feeling she was enjoying this, or that she felt much of anything about it at all. Maybe she'd been telling the truth, when she said she wasn't angry with Aster. She was just...coldly methodical about it — it took her a few strokes to get the hang of aiming properly, Aster doubted she'd ever practised lashing hexes on a person any more than she had physically whipped someone, but after she did she started casting stripes down Aster's back, parallel to the first one, carefully keeping them from overlapping until she ran out of space, and then switching to a different angle, every point of intersection burning with every strike.</p>
<p>But it stopped hurting after a while.</p>
<p>She couldn't have said how long, and she lost track of the blows about five lashes in, but long enough for the impact and the pain to begin to seem...natural. Almost...<em>soothing</em>, in a way, as intrinsic to her being as her heartbeat. It almost seemed wrong when Evans apparently decided they were done. Aster hadn't said to stop, hadn't remembered to through the hazy floatiness filling her head — though she had also long since forgotten that she was supposed to be miserable, or trying not to be miserable, or...whatever, it didn't matter anymore.</p>
<p>She'd also long since lost the will to hold herself upright, she was already on her hands and knees, but she let herself relax, falling to the ground entirely with a soft whump and clicking of teeth, jarring her head and neck in a way which <em>did</em> hurt, even if the familiar pain of Evans's hexes didn't anymore.</p>
<p>"Aster?" Evans sounded...kind of worried about her, hurrying over to kneel beside her. "Oh, fuck, this is so much worse than I thought it was—"</p>
<p>Yes, well, that was what happened when you just stayed <em>all the way over there</em> throwing hexes at someone.</p>
<p>"Why didn't you tell me to <em>stop</em>?!"</p>
<p>Well, <em>that</em> was a silly question. Obviously she hadn't <em>wanted </em>her to. At least not enough to remember that she should...</p>
<p>"Aster. Say something."</p>
<p>She tried, but her tongue wasn't working at the moment, or maybe her brain. She did manage to make a vaguely questioning sort of humming noise.</p>
<p>"<em>Fuck</em>. Bella?"</p>
<p>
  <em>Bella?</em>
</p>
<p>"Asphodel! Perfect timing, we were just done, here. Are you ready to come back?"</p>
<p>Oh, right, mirror. Calling. Apparating. Yeah, that wasn't happening right now.</p>
<p>"Bellatrix! I was still speaking to you!"</p>
<p><em>Hi, Dorea</em>.</p>
<p>"Just a moment, Asphodel. Doe? Auntie? If you think I'm more concerned about the psychological well-being of that little <em>maggot </em>you comprehensively failed to adequately educate than I am about Aster's state of mind, you are <em>sorely mistaken</em>. And you can stop lecturing me about scaring the shite out of him right now. I didn't physically harm a hair on his messy little Potter head, which as far as I'm concerned was letting him off lightly — which I <em>only</em> did because the fault for his failed upbringing is <em>clearly</em> not his own! Count yourself lucky that your position precludes my teaching <em>you</em> a lesson or two about what is and is not acceptable behaviour for a former daughter of the House of Black in regard to the children of her natal House, and <em>shut the fuck up</em>. Right, good. Okay. You were saying, Princess?"</p>
<p>"Um, well, I...might have kind of sort of broken Aster. A little."</p>
<p>Bella sniggered. "You <em>broke</em> her? What did you <em>do</em>?"</p>
<p>"Er...that might be better to explain in person? Or at the very least in private."</p>
<p>"That bad, really?"</p>
<p>"Um, maybe? I don't know. But I don't think Dorea wants to hear it."</p>
<p>"Oh, well, in that case, speak loudly. She could do with a few more unpleasant truths tonight."</p>
<p>"<em>Bella!</em> <em>I</em> wouldn't want <em>my</em> mother to know this sort of shite about me, so I'm <em>sure</em> Aster doesn't want <em>Dorea </em>to know."</p>
<p><em>Mmm, yeah. Dorea would </em>not <em>approve. Not at </em>all<em>.</em></p>
<p>Though Aster didn't really <em>not </em>want her not to know. The idea of wanting anything at all at the moment was a bit...fuzzy. Distant. Would require effort. She didn't care enough.</p>
<p>"Okay, okay," Bella sighed. "I'll be there in a few minutes." There was laughter in her voice, like she knew whatever Evans had done couldn't possibly be <em>that </em>bad, really, which was nice. That was just the really nice thing about Bella in general. Whatever Aster did, she never thought it was <em>that</em> bad. Broke the Covenant just so she wouldn't have to do dark magic anymore? Eh, maybe kind of selfish, but what else can anyone expect from a child of the Dark? Accidentally almost got someone killed? Maybe a bit sloppy, but these things happen. Becoming a girl? Sure, why not?</p>
<p>"<em>Thank</em> you!" She must have ended the mirror call, because the next thing she said was Aster's name again. "Aster? Can you hear me?"</p>
<p>"<em>Mm</em>?" she mumbled, making a concerted effort to nod, rough dirt scraping against her cheek. There was a sharp bit of rock digging into her cheekbone. That was annoying. But it barely registered against the burning of her back, throbbing with every pulse of her heart — cold night air felt <em>wonderful</em> there, even if the rest of her thought a blanket sounded nice. Or sleep. Sleep would be good.</p>
<p><em>Oh, wait, no, stop that..</em>. she thought, distantly aware that Evans was humming a healing charm over her.</p>
<p>"<em>No,</em> don't," she managed to say, rather thickly.</p>
<p>Or at least she thought she did.</p>
<p>Evans said, "Shh, it's fine, Aster, I'm just healing you."</p>
<p>So she might not have been very clear.</p>
<p>"<em>No</em>."</p>
<p>"<em>No?"</em> Evans repeated. "Did you just say <em>no?"</em></p>
<p>She nodded. It didn't <em>count</em> if she healed it, that was like skipping out on the worse half of the punishment. And besides, she didn't want to...forget. That she'd already paid for...everything. Start feeling miserable and guilty again, even though— No. Bad Aster. Not doing that anymore. Not <em>thinking</em> about that anymore.</p>
<p>"As in, you don't want me to heal you?"</p>
<p>She nodded again.</p>
<p>"Aster, I don't think you understand, you're <em>really</em> hurt— I didn't realise, I would've stopped if— Oh, Bella! Um. Hi. I, didn't mean to, but, well... I think I might've kind of broken her. She <em>did</em> say to keep going, but she just...stopped <em>reacting</em>, and—"</p>
<p>"—and you panicked because you've never really tortured anyone before, obviously." She came to lie down beside Aster, like she had after she'd become Aster in the first place, brushing Aster's hair out of the way so she could see her eyes. "Asteria, are you awake?"</p>
<p>Kind of.</p>
<p>Bella's eyes were still really pretty.</p>
<p>"Hi," she mumbled, giving her a sleepy smile. It came out more like <em>hey</em>, but close enough.</p>
<p>Bella giggled. "She's fine, Princess."</p>
<p>"Are you fucking serious? She's <em>not</em> fine, just <em>look</em> at her! I didn't realise I was hurting her <em>nearly</em> this badly, she didn't <em>react</em> like it hurt this badly— It looks like I used a fucking flaying curse on her, and she doesn't want me to heal her!"</p>
<p>"Eh, it's all superficial. She's had worse. And I assume she had her reasons for wanting to do this in the first place. If she doesn't want you to heal her completely, don't. Just clean her up and push what would be a day or two of natural healing so she won't keep bleeding on everything."</p>
<p>"But—"</p>
<p>"Oh, shush, you," Bella said firmly, poking Aster between the eyes. "You're going to be plenty sore for at least a week, and you know you can't just go back to Hogwarts all bloody. Especially since you're in no state to clean up after yourself."</p>
<p>Right. Blood magic. Must be properly paranoid about these things. She nodded. Reluctantly.</p>
<p>"Okay, good." Was she relieved? Had she really been worried? <em>Going soft, Evans?</em> "This is going to sting, Aster," Evans warned her, which was about the funniest thing ever. Sterilising charms <em>did</em> sting — on an open wound, they tended to fucking <em>burn</em>, actually. But compared to the welts and the bruising beneath them, it was barely anything. A brief searing on top of the ongoing throbbing. Though that eased noticeably as she coaxed Aster's skin to begin pulling itself back together, and anchored a cooling charm to the soft, conjured bandages she layered over the marks.</p>
<p>"Very neat," Bella noted. "Sit up, Aster." She conjured a glass and filled it with water.</p>
<p>Oh, water. Water was good. Though she did have to sit up to drink it.</p>
<p>She focused on that, mostly, leaning on Evans because, well, she didn't really know why — because she was there, and why should Aster sit up properly when there was someone there to lean against? She was aware that Bella and Evans <em>were</em> talking about her, still, but she didn't really care enough to pay attention. Caring was <em>hard</em>, and she was tired. She really didn't see why anyone ever bothered when they could just snuggle up against someone warm and fall asleep on them. Especially someone who apparently just unconsciously started petting anyone who happened to fetch up in her lap.</p>
<p>Sleep was, she decided, even nicer than water.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Right, so. That's a thing. I really feel like I should have something to say here about doing SM responsibly (RACK is a thing, guys), but that's not really what this is. Even though, yes, under other circumstances, they'd definitely enjoy actually experimenting with BDSM.  (Probably more D/s than SM, but.) </p>
<p>So, um. Lily - Points for trying to negotiate. Rescinded for thinking you can trust Aster to actually use a safeword in this state of mind. Aster...you have serious underlying issues that can't be solved by getting someone to beat the shite out of you. In case you haven't noticed. </p>
<p>Whoo unhealthy coping mechanisms!</p>
<p>(Also, Bella thinks inexperienced baby-Domme Lily freaking out about maybe actually hurting her sub is adorable.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. The Morning After</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up, on the other hand, was decidedly <em>not</em> nice.</p>
<p>Her back ached — lashing hexes had a wider area of impact than cutting curses, but they landed with a similar degree of force, bruising muscle as well as breaking skin — and any movement tugged and cracked the scabs beneath her bandages, and she felt vaguely hung-over from whatever weird, exhausted pain-high she'd managed to stumble into last night (or possibly from not having nearly enough water with all the running and the crying and the blood loss).</p>
<p>The second thing she noticed, after her general physical condition, was that she wasn't in her own bed, or even at Hogwarts at all. There were no windows in Evans's piece of the dorm either, but the cloth walls she had enchanted glowed faintly with constellations of silver runes, and those were missing. Also, the pillow she was currently drooling on smelled more like snake than undead cat. "Evans?"</p>
<p>"<em>Hmmm</em>?" a lump on the other side of the bed muttered.</p>
<p>"Why're we at de Mort's house?"</p>
<p>"<em>Eeh?"</em></p>
<p>Aster groaned, a hand scrabbling blindly at the side-table, hoping to find a wand. <em>Aha! Success!</em> It was even her <em>own</em> wand. Lovely. She flicked off a tempus charm. It was already <em>ten</em>? <em>Ergh</em>, they were going to be in <em>so</em> much trouble when they got back to school... "Evans, we're late for Transfiguration."</p>
<p>"Wha...?" That was apparently enough to actually drag her more fully into consciousness, though, because she added, "<em>Transfiguration</em>? ...Don't care. Where's Bella?"</p>
<p>Obviously not <em>here</em>, and honestly, she wasn't sure why Evans would <em>expect</em> her to be. Yes, she was probably in the house <em>somewhere</em>, but... "How the hell would I know? Why are we at de Mort's house?"</p>
<p>"Because I didn't want to levitate you back up to the Tower and probably have about fifteen people ask me what the fuck I was doing with my semi-delerious and/or unconscious, clearly injured roommate, and Bella said we didn't have to." Which wasn't at <em>all</em> the same as saying no one expected them to...but Aster didn't really care any more than Evans apparently cared about Transfiguration. "Are you feeling better now?"</p>
<p>"...Surprisingly, yes." Headache and physical pain notwithstanding, she did feel...less conflicted. Kind of...numb. Not like taking a Chill Pill, though, more like the air being clear after a thunderstorm, like some kind of balance had been restored, or something. But also kind of...distant? Yesterday, sitting in Dumbledore's office, seemed like a <em>really</em> long time ago. But she wasn't completely fucking miserable, anyway. "You hurt me."</p>
<p>"Er... You did kind of ask me to."</p>
<p>"Yeah, I know. I'm not angry, just kind of surprised you actually <em>did</em> it."</p>
<p>Evans groaned in a way that implied she thought it was <em>far</em> too early for this conversation, but didn't actually drop it. "Why is that surprising? You seemed like you needed it."</p>
<p>Oh. That was...weird? She thought it was weird. That Evans would just...do something she obviously wasn't entirely comfortable with, just because she thought Aster needed her to. Not <em>bad</em>, kind of the opposite, really, just...unexpected. And... (No<em>, Aster, do </em>not <em>go swearing her undying loyalty just because she put your needs before her own comfort just </em>once<em>. Do </em>not!)</p>
<p>(She really, really wanted to, though.)</p>
<p>"Though I wish you'd let me heal you. I had no idea how much damage I was doing... I don't know how lucid you were, after, you seemed kind of out of it, but Bella said to leave it..."</p>
<p>Aster shook herself out of her little reverie. "I knew what I was doing. I don't want it healed. It's not... It wouldn't <em>count</em>. ...If I keep trying to explain why, I'm going to sound like a crazy person."</p>
<p>Evans let out a single, near-silent huff of laughter. "I already know you're a crazy person, you do know that, right?"</p>
<p>"Doesn't matter. In case you haven't noticed, I don't really <em>like</em> being fucked in the head. And I'm not mad enough or drunk enough or overly-tired enough to talk about it at the moment."</p>
<p>Evans snorted. "Well, you're at <em>least</em> going to let me look at your back and make sure it's not getting infected or something. Do you have your wand?"</p>
<p>"Yes?"</p>
<p>"Good, cast a light charm. I can't find mine." She did, raising her head enough (against the complaints of her back) to see Evans's wand on the same table hers had been sitting on and pass it over to her. "Cheers." She flicked the sheet down to Aster's bum, vanished the bandages and let out a pained-sounding hiss. "Fuck, this looks even worse in proper lighting."</p>
<p>It didn't feel <em>that</em> bad, comparatively speaking. "It probably looks worse than it is. I seem to recall Bella telling you I'd had worse."</p>
<p>"That doesn't mean <em>this</em> isn't <em>bad</em>, Aster! It looks like I fucking flayed you!"</p>
<p>It probably didn't. Flaying was much <em>neater</em> than lashing hexes. "Really? It doesn't hurt that bad. Cissy actually <em>did</em> hit me with a flaying curse once. Also doesn't hurt as bad as being burned, or a few dozen nerve-tweaking curses. And it's not even in the same <em>category</em> as being fucking <em>disembowled</em>." Though that hadn't <em>hurt</em> so much as instantaneously thrown her into shock, with that stomach-turning sensation that <em>gods and Powers this is bad</em> and a deep and sudden awareness of her own mortality. (Almost dying was, she had decided, <em>very unpleasant</em>, no matter <em>how</em> you almost died.)</p>
<p>"<em>What?"</em></p>
<p>Aster sniggered at her shocked outrage. "I take it you've never seen the sort of damage mages can do to each other in a real fight before?"</p>
<p>"When the hell would I have?"</p>
<p>...Good point. It was still bloody weird to think that most people didn't ever see anyone try to kill each other, let alone regularly get into serious fights, even for practice. Aster couldn't remember the first time she'd seen a training fight, she'd been that small. "Eh, ask de Mort, I'm sure he'll share some memories with you. Or Bella would probably let you sit in on her trainees next time they practise. Actually, she might just demand that you learn how to defend yourself properly, especially if you take her up on the adoption thing. So you'll probably end up seeing for yourself anyway."</p>
<p>Evans was quiet for a long moment, casting a debriding charm (which was not pleasant, and why had she waited until <em>now</em> to do that? hadn't she already started it healing last night?) and another sterilising charm (even <em>less</em> pleasant, right after the debriding), and re-bandaging her back before asking, "So, she was serious about that?"</p>
<p>"Don't be thick, Evans, of course she was." Aster cast a numbing charm on herself so she could actually roll over and stand up without whimpering.</p>
<p>Evans glared at her. "I left that off on purpose. You're going to hurt yourself worse if you can't feel it."</p>
<p>Aster ignored her. The muscle pain was enough she wouldn't forget that her skin was damaged as well. "Did you grab my robes last night, or am I stealing something from Bella again?"</p>
<p>"Er...I did, but I don't know what happened to them," Evans admitted, easily distracted from her would-be healer lecturing.</p>
<p>Well, fine. She still hadn't managed to gain enough weight she couldn't just take the least fae thing she could possibly find to wear back to school. Which would probably be dueling robes, Bella would want them back eventually, but whatever.</p>
<p>"I thought she was, but Sev said whatever she did with the runes wasn't, so then I thought maybe she was just doing...whatever that was, instead."</p>
<p>What? Oh, the adoption thing. "That was claiming you as a ward of the House, so if Dumbledore tried to force you to talk to a mind healer to ostentiably make sure you weren't compelled or befuddled, but actually to tweak your thoughts so you wouldn't want to associate with her and de Mort, or just outright forbade you from seeing them or something, she'd have an excuse to intervene." Not that Aster thought Dumbledore was exactly <em>likely</em> to do something like that, but Bella could be a bit paranoid at times.</p>
<p>"Seriously? He's just my Headmaster. He might be able to forbid Bella and Thom from coming to the school, but I'm pretty sure he can't forbid me to see them anywhere else."</p>
<p>"Your birthday's in the summer, right?"</p>
<p>"What? I mean, yes, it is, but what does that have to do with anything?"</p>
<p>Evans was <em>not</em> pleased to learn <em>exactly</em> how few rights she had as an underage, unaffiliated muggleborn, and only slightly mollified when Aster explained how the whole wardship thing worked, and that she did have rights now, but only as a member of the House of Black. She followed Aster around the entire time she was hunting through Bella's wardrobe for clothes, washing her face and charming her hair, asking increasingly annoyed questions about muggleborns' position in the legal system and how House law and British law even <em>worked</em> together (idiosyncratically, was the answer).</p>
<p>By the time they meandered out into the kitchen in search of food and/or Bella, though, she had mostly resigned herself to the fact that Britain and its government and the way it functioned (or didn't) was just a little more fucked up than she'd already thought it was.</p>
<p>She sighed. "I don't know, it's just— Well, <em>fine</em>, I guess, I mean, I don't disagree with Bella claiming me. Sounds like a pretty good deal, honestly, especially if the alternative is Albus bloody Dumbledore. I just wish someone had told me all that a while ago, you know?"</p>
<p>Aster made a noncommittal hum, hunting through the cupboards and cold box looking for anything that might be considered breakfast-like. Four different kinds of fruit juice, a bit of lox, and a rather sad-looking pear were all she managed to find. Well, also Bella's stash of nutrient potions, and a jar of oats for porridge, but neither of those counted as food. There wasn't even any milk or sugar for the porridge!</p>
<p>Honestly, she knew neither one of them could cook, but this was ridiculous. She poured herself a glass of grapefruit juice and stalked into the sitting room/parlour area situated between the dining room and the tiny library/study to see if Bella was there, and if so, complain to her about the lack of food, but she didn't make it that far, as Evans followed her, still complaining about no one teaching muggleborns anything <em>important</em>—</p>
<p>"Yes, well, there was a suggestion back in the Forties to create such a class—" de Mort said, addressing Evans's complaints with a slightly muffled groan, and startling Aster rather badly. She spun around to see him lying on the sofa with a pillow over his head to block out the sunlight streaming through the open windows.</p>
<p>"Gah! Why are you hiding on the sofa?" Creepy fucker!</p>
<p>He moved the pillow to give her a snakey glare. "I'm not <em>hiding</em>. <em>You</em> like to snuggle in your sleep. And <em>you</em>," the glare shifted to Evans, "kick people. And you both think much too loudly when you're unconscious. The bed was beginning to feel a bit <em>crowded.</em>"</p>
<p>Evans twisted her face into an apologetic sort of grimace. "Sorry. I'm not used to sharing."</p>
<p>"What a coincidence. Neither am I."</p>
<p>There was a certain pointed waspishness in his tone that apparently Evans felt demanded a defensive response. "Hey! <em>I'm</em> not the one who decided to crash here! Blame Bella."</p>
<p>"Oh, I do," he glowered. The expression lost something given that he was...kind of sparkly, in the sun. The little scales that covered his skin had a sort of Antipodean Opaleye sheen to them. Looked a bit twee. By which she meant, <em>could you be any more adorable, Mister I want to be a sparkly lamia princess?</em> No wonder he never let people see his real face in daylight, they'd—</p>
<p>
  <em>BELLA!</em>
</p>
<p>Aster winced. No fair, de Mort doing the indiscriminate mental shouting thing! It wasn't like <em>she'd</em> been eavesdropping on <em>him</em>...</p>
<p>There was a small crash from the study at his mental bellowing, followed quickly by a very annoyed Bella appearing in the doorway. "You made me drop my levitation charms. What do you— Well, you are a bit sparkly... I don't know what you're complaining about, I told you they'd be up before you went to bed, and look, they are."</p>
<p>"I <em>tried</em> to go to bed an hour ago. They wouldn't let me."</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, I'm sure it would simply have been impossible to wake them up and kick them out. Aster's wounded, it's not like she'd be able to put up much of a fight, and I think you can take Asphodel. Pretty sure."</p>
<p>"Bellatrix, I am <em>not</em> in the mood for your cheek this morning!" the stroppy, sparkly Dark Lord snapped. <em>Nor yours</em>, he added silently, his attention and magic suddenly (and kind of terrifyingly) focused on Aster. She bit back a startled, anxious <em>eep</em>.</p>
<p>"Apologies, Master," Bella said, sounding far more amused than sorry. "I only meant to point out that the bloody Dark Lord being kicked out of his own bed by a couple of unconscious teenagers is fucking hilarious. If you can't see that, you really do need some sleep. And oh, would you look at that, the bed is now entirely vacant."</p>
<p><em>Bloody Blacks never know when to stop taking the piss...</em> de Mort grumbled, hissing something at Bella — presumably a rude something, because Evans went a bit pink, and Bella grinned.</p>
<p>"My Lord knows that I will accept any punishment he deems necessary to rectify my transgression," she said, her tone all sultry and heavy with implications, which... Okay, Aster really didn't want to think about what the <em>hell</em> he might have suggested, but she also <em>really</em> couldn't help herself.</p>
<p>De Mort sighed. "The commentary from the peanut gallery rather ruins it. Asphodel, if you want advice on topping your new pet, I'm sure Bella will oblige you. I'm going to bed." He swept past Evans (now a <em>much</em> brighter shade of red) without another word, leaving Aster wondering what the hell <em>she'd</em> been thinking.</p>
<p>Bella grinned. "We can do that. In fact, I was planning on talking about that with both of you, anyway. Come on." She led the way over to the hearth, grabbing a tin of floo powder from the mantle. "We can go to the Parliament, since someone will continue to bitch about you two thinking too loudly if we stay here."</p>
<p>Of course he would, obscenely powerful creep. "What, <em>now</em>?" Aster complained. "We <em>are</em> supposed to be at school right now, you know. And someone told me I need to eat regular meals."</p>
<p>"I'm sure the kitchen will still have croissants or something if you ask nicely, and the Old Goat is well aware that you're in the midst of an ongoing emotional crisis." Oh. Right. Aster had kind of forgotten, in the midst of hunting for food and attempting to explain the complete madness that was the legal system before finding some bloody coffee, and getting all distracted by stroppy Lord Sparklebum. "He and Dorea agreed that it would be best if you stayed home until you felt up to returning to lessons. I <em>could</em> have taken you back, but we really need to have a talk about power exchange games, and you, Princess, weren't exactly in an <em>objective</em> frame of mind last night, and Aster was barely conscious. Also, Aster, I think Dorea wants you to talk to McKinnon before you go back. Not sure, I stopped listening because she kept trying to slip defences of her refusal to raise her spawn properly in between actual pertinent questions and commentary on yesterday's events."</p>
<p>"And Evans?"</p>
<p>"Is obviously very concerned about the roommate she's become so close to these past weeks. Besides, what's he going to do if she misses a few days worth of lessons? write to her guardian? Oh, wait..." She smirked, holding out the tin.</p>
<p><em>Fine, whatever</em>.</p>
<p>Aster went first, which meant she was in an <em>excellent</em> position to see Evans follow her a few seconds later, tripping out of the fire and catching a toe on the hearth rug in one of the <em>least</em> graceful flooing attempts she'd <em>ever</em> seen.</p>
<p>"Circe's saggy tits! That's <em>terrible</em>!" she spat, attracting the attention of everyone else in the atrium, though Aster didn't think Evans actually noticed <em>that</em>. She was too busy coughing and grinding the ash from the fire more deeply into her jumper as she tried to brush it off. "Who the fuck would ever think that travelling through the bloody <em>fireplace</em> is a good idea?! Fucking <em>Santa Claus</em>?!"</p>
<p>"You know, you normally do a really good job of <em>not</em> sounding like a muggleborn, but that might be the single most mugglish thing I've ever heard you say."</p>
<p>Evans glared at her, clearly trying not to look embarrassed about her clumsiness, or possibly about sounding like the muggleborn she'd been raised. "Sorry, should've said, why the <em>hell</em> would anyone do <em>that</em> when shadow-walking exists?"</p>
<p>"Shadow-walking isn't nearly as easy as Bella and de Mort make it look, and you're more fucked in the head than I am, if you think being pulled under the Dark is less miserable than using the floo." <em>Aster</em> thought shadow-walking was terrifying, and <em>she</em> was actually relatively <em>good </em>at using magic to sense her surroundings. But then, Evans saw nothing wrong with muggles shooting themselves off into <em>space</em>, so maybe that shouldn't be surprising. "And you can't tell me you think the floo is worse than your fucking adder stones."</p>
<p>She appeared to need a moment to consider the relative degrees of stomach-turning disorientation there, or maybe she'd just realised they were having an argument about the floo in the middle of the Parliament's atrium, to the amusement of the bloke at the front desk and the half-dozen or so club members who'd been mingling and meandering to or from the apparation area. "Er...what is this place, exactly?"</p>
<p>"Bella's club, obviously."</p>
<p>"Her...club?"</p>
<p>"Yes?" Had Evans really never heard of a club before? "It's kind of like a common room, for people who don't actually live together." Though this particular club did have a few rooms members could borrow or let, so some of them did kind of live together, when they happened to be in town and didn't want to apparate home drunk or whatever.</p>
<p>"I know what a bloody <em>club</em> is, Asteria! It just seems...weird, Bella...<em>socialising</em> with people, just because."</p>
<p>Oh, that. "She keeps a room here, uses it as a public office for business meetings." There were a few Black properties around that were used for similar purposes, but Arcturus didn't support the Death Eaters, so she really couldn't use them for meetings she held on de Mort's behalf. Also, sometimes you just didn't want to bring casual fucks and/or play-torture victims home to your actual house. Aster vaguely recalled a few comments on the logistics of such things, in the course of that very illuminating conversation they'd had about sex a few years ago. "And even Bella can't be serious and productive <em>all</em> the time. She's not <em>opposed</em> to drinking and card games and intelligent conversation," she explained, leading Evans over to the desk.</p>
<p>"She's not here at the moment, though," the concierge informed her.</p>
<p>"I know, I thought she was right behind us, but she might've gotten caught up with de Mort."</p>
<p>"She should just be a few minutes," Evans volunteered. "She said we should go on ahead, she'll meet us here."</p>
<p>Aster nodded. Somewhat annoying, but not entirely unexpected that Bella would want to have a word with Lord Sparklebum before joining them. (She loved that nickname, it was even better than <em>Lord Snakefucker</em>. She was definitely going to keep using it at least until he'd overheard it a couple of times, and probably until she thought of something more rude and/or annoying.) "Which room is hers, again?"</p>
<p>The concierge gave her a small frown. "You know I can't allow you to simply wander the building unaccompanied, Miss Black. You're not a member of the club. I don't believe we've even been introduced."</p>
<p>They hadn't been. She didn't see that they needed to be, since he <em>clearly</em> knew who she was, or at least that she was a Black, which should be more than enough, but whatever. "Bellatrix Asteria, formerly Sirius Orion. This is Asphodel, de Mort's long-lost daughter. And you are...?"</p>
<p>"Winston. Edwin Winston." Win Winston? Really? The names some parents chose for their kids, honestly... "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, I'm sure. But I still can't let you poke around annoying all the <em>actual </em>members while you wait for your cousin to show up."</p>
<p>Aster gave the stubborn doorkeeper a dramatic groan. "Is Cass Rosier here? Or Marc? Dahlia? Dolph or Bastian Lestrange? Addie Thorne? Cindy Parkinson? B.J. Crouch?" She would add Malfoy to the list, but she would actually rather stand around waiting out here than suffer his tedious, <em>tedious</em> company. "Literally half of your members know me, I refuse to believe there isn't a single person in the entire club right now who could vouch for me." Hell, Lord Stryke, who'd just apparated in and brushed past them without acknowledging their existence, knew who she was, he just <em>wouldn't</em> vouch for her because he hated the Blacks.</p>
<p>Win Winston gave her a terribly put-upon sigh, but cast the same discrete little shadow-magic whispering charm Reggie had used to demand she join the Secret Family Meeting on Monday. "Madam Charleston, there are two individuals requesting your presence at the front desk, should you have a moment. Miss Bellatrix Asteria Black and her companion, Miss Asphodel de Mort." He dropped the charm. "Mirabella Charleston will join us momentarily."</p>
<p>Aster rolled her eyes. "<em>Thank</em> you!" As far as she knew, Zee didn't come here all that often. Aster wouldn't have <em>expected</em> her to be around, and they'd probably be interrupting whatever specific business had brought her in, but if it were really important she could have told them to wait, rather than coming to fetch them immediately.</p>
<p>Which she did, appearing from the depths of the club not a minute later. "Well, look at <em>you</em>!" she exclaimed, sashaying over to them and kissing Aster on both cheeks. "Miss Asteria Black. Suits you. And this must be...?"</p>
<p>"Zee, this is Lily Evans, known as Asphodel. She's my roommate. Lily, Mirabella Charleston née Zabini, known as Zee. She's Bella's girlfriend, and pretty much the coolest person in the entire world."</p>
<p>Zee chuckled at that introduction. "Mira is fine, darling. Come, come, Gio and I have been visiting with Tony and Morgana — they're in town to introduce little Augustus to his British cousins. Thank you, Eddie, my prince — exceeding my expectations as always!" She gave the wizard at the desk a blindingly sincere smile, before leading them past him, explaining, "When I asked him to arrange some excuse for my presence to be required elsewhere within the hour, I hardly imagined he would find <em>actual people</em> to interrupt this tedious familial nonsense. Bella <em>will</em> be along soon, yes?"</p>
<p>When Aster confirmed this, Zee ushered them into one of the small, heavily warded private parlours which were often reserved for sensitive political discussions. Bugger. Should've said <em>no</em> and skipped the awkward catching-up-with-cousins thing entirely. At least, she presumed that was why Zee had asked, because if Bella wasn't going to rescue them soon she would have found some excuse to not go back in at all.</p>
<p>After a quick round of introductions, they'd managed to waste about ten minutes explaining to Evans how they were all related. Zee's Aunt Aradia (the younger, more normal of Zee's aunts) had been knocked up by one of Dru's younger brothers while they were still at Beauxbatons. Their son Antony had married one of the Nott girls a year or two ago, Aster vaguely recalled she'd attended their wedding, but she'd honestly only spoken to Tony maybe twice before that. She and Reggie might've considered the Rosiers to be closer cousins than they actually <em>were</em>, but they didn't actually attend Rosier family gatherings. Tony didn't even blink when she was introduced as Asteria, probably just figured she was yet another more distantly-related Black, there were almost as many at one point as Rosiers.</p>
<p>Gio, of course, knew <em>exactly</em> who Aster was, and had been. She looked almost exactly the same, still, and he, unlike his cousin, had attended Hogwarts, graduated two years ago. He had, in fact, had the honour of being one of the first blokes Aster had ever deliberately seduced (mostly so Cissy couldn't have him, but he was also shy and sweet — shockingly innocent, for being Zee's younger brother — and easy on the eyes, there were far worse people to practise blowjobs on). He was very, very much a wizards' wizard (which meant he never would have gone for Cissy anyway, but they hadn't known at the time), seemed to find it a bit disturbing that she was now Asteria. Not that he actually said as much, just...stared, all awkward and unnerved about it.</p>
<p>Bella showed up before the conversation progressed much past establishing that Zee's mum had gone positively gaga over the (alleged) infant (Aster hadn't even heard that there was another little Rosier, but she'd kind of been out of the loop for a while), and commandeered him for the foreseeable future, sending his parents off to have a nice, relaxing, child-free day out with their cousins. Which, while making small talk with cousins you hardly knew over tea and scones was <em>absolutely</em> the sort of thing Aster could imagine <em>Gio</em> thinking was a perfectly fine way to spend the day, she wasn't at <em>all</em> surprised that Zee used her, Evans, and Bella showing up as an excuse to ditch them at the earliest opportunity. Both Morgana and Antony knew who <em>Bella</em> was — Morgana was a couple of years younger than Meda, they'd been in Slytherin together, and Bella <em>did</em> go to Rosier family events — they were more than happy to let Zee escape if it meant Bella wasn't going to join them. (When she wasn't being vaguely terrifying, Bella was inexplicably considered a bit of a buzz-kill by practically everyone. Aster had even heard baby Death Eaters complaining before that she had absolutely no sense of humour to speak of, which was <em>completely ridiculous</em>.)</p>
<p>"Sorry," Bella said lightly, unlocking the door to her study with a complex little charm Aster was willing to bet she'd invented herself — there was, after all, no point in locking something if anyone else had the key. (Which meant Aster and Evans really <em>couldn't</em> have waited there, Winston could've said as much...) "I didn't expect that to take quite so long, got a bit tied up."</p>
<p>Zee gave her a wicked, insinuating smirk. "I just bet you did."</p>
<p>"Not by Thom. I did have something I wanted to ask him, but before I could leave a letter came in from Dorea."</p>
<p>Zee started speaking before Aster could ask whether Dorea was writing about her or James. "Did this letter have something to do with the reason Asteria and— Do you really go by Asphodel?"</p>
<p>Evans shrugged, nodded. "I assume Aster has a better idea who should be calling me by which name than I do."</p>
<p>"Asphodel, then." Zee gave her a rather peculiar, amused sort of smile, eyes briefly cutting over to Aster, before quickly returning to Bella. "Did Dorea's letter have something to do with the reason Aster and Asphodel are here this morning, and not at Hogwarts?"</p>
<p>"Tangentially. I petitioned Uncle last night to remove Aster from Dorea's custody. It seems he wrote her this morning asking what the hell she'd done, and she immediately wrote <em>me</em> because it appears I've <em>offended</em> her."</p>
<p>"You... You did <em>what?"</em> Aster stuttered.</p>
<p>Bella's eyes tipped toward the ceiling all exasperated, as though <em>Aster</em> was the one over-reacting, here. "Oh, calm down, I'm not saying you can't see her, go over for tea or what have you, and I'm not saying you have to stay at Ancient House this summer, but you're <em>not</em> living with the Potters anymore."</p>
<p>Well, <em>no</em>, she knew that, she <em>couldn't</em>, not with...James, but— "You... My birthday's in <em>two weeks</em>, Bella! You couldn't have just <em>waited?</em> I know I can't– can't go back, but— It's not <em>Dorea's</em> fault—"</p>
<p>"The next words out of your mouth had better not be that it's not Dorea's fault her son — the one she was entirely responsible for raising? — doesn't understand that you don't break promises to family."</p>
<p>"That wasn't what I was going to say!" It had been. "I was going to say it's not her fault I freaked him out being a crazy person."</p>
<p>"If he was just freaking out about you being bloody mad — which, I'm not sure how that can possibly be a surprise after living in the same room as you for five bloody years — he could've just run to mummy panicking about you and/or Bella killing him, he didn't have to go whining to the <em>Chief fucking Warlock</em> about me being evil, psychotic, delusional, or some combination of the above," Evans pointed out, taking an exceedingly casual, uninvited seat on a settee, looking for all the world like she belonged there, despite still wearing the muggle outfit she'd had on yesterday for her meeting with Dumbledore. "In fact, I'd argue the fact that he broke his promise before talking to Dorea suggests he's more worried about <em>me</em> being a crazy person than you."</p>
<p>"But—"</p>
<p>"Aster, if you don't stop trying to defend James Potter being a judgy, self-righteous, bigoted <em>arse</em>..."</p>
<p><em>Then you'll </em>what<em>, Evans?</em></p>
<p>Before she could ask, Zee interrupted. "I do believe I've missed something. What promise did Dorea's son break? And what does this have to do with Asteria's living situation?"</p>
<p>"Asphodel was less than entirely discrete about her relationship with Death at the Samhain revel," Bella began.</p>
<p>"Yes, you mentioned that. And that you and Thom got to pretend to be actual parents, and that Lady Persephone told off both Thom and the Old Goat." Evans raised an eyebrow at the fact that Bella had apparently gone and told Zee all about her, but didn't object. Presumably she trusted Bella to know whether Zee could be trusted to keep her mouth shut.</p>
<p>"Yes, well, the Potter boy, being a lost little Light brat doing his <em>very</em> best to follow in dear Daddy's political wake, took it into his head that he was obligated to report Asphodel as a black mage, because <em>ooh, scary baby necromancer! what if she has a dream about being a dead person or something that has absolutely nothing to do with me?! the horror!</em> Aster, quite rightly, assumed that if he were to report her to anyone who took his accusation seriously enough to get her arrested and investigated, I would kill him for making what can really only be interpreted as a deliberate attack against my daughter, and therefore made him promise not to tell anyone. Which promise he promptly <em>broke</em>, because the Light don't consider promises made under duress to count. You have to actually make them swear <em>on</em> something," she added, turning to Aster, "if you want them to keep their word, even to family."</p>
<p>"It wasn't <em>under duress</em>!" Aster objected.</p>
<p>"You had him disarmed, at wand-point, and were threatening to incapacitate him and drag him off to the Dark Lord to forcibly alter his memory if he didn't swear to keep his mouth shut."</p>
<p>Well, when she put it like <em>that</em>..."I was trying to help him — keep him safe from <em>you</em>! And <em>he</em> pulled <em>his</em> wand on me, first!"</p>
<p>"Keep him safe from his own stupidity, you mean? Terminal idiocy? Good phrase. You and I both know that you had no intention of harming him, but—"</p>
<p>"He did, too! I had <em>just</em> explained literally thirty seconds before!"</p>
<p>"Aster, my duck?" Zee interrupted, sounding vaguely amused. "People who didn't grow up around the House of Black don't always understand the difference between <em>intense</em> and <em>erratic</em>. Regardless of how reasonably and consistently you believe you were acting, it is entirely possible — even likely — that the Potter boy was unable to predict your behaviour, and therefore believed you posed some threat to him, whether you intended to give that impression or not. It should not be surprising that he told you what you wanted to hear simply so that you would allow him to remove himself from what he perceived as immediate potential danger, with no intention of following through on that promise."</p>
<p>"I— But— But he <em>knows</em> me! He <em>had</em> to know..."</p>
<p>"He <em>doesn't</em> know you though." Did she have to sound so cold and hard and unforgiving saying that? Wait, stupid question, this was <em>Evans</em>... "I don't think he ever really did. I mean, if he <em>did</em>, he would've understood you were legitimately sorry you caved to my seduction back in September. Not to mention, he wouldn't have gotten so stuck on the metamorphosis thing. Anyway, Potter ran off and narked on me to Dumbledore and floo-called Dorea to tell her that Aster had scared him. Presumably Dumbledore assured Potter that he wouldn't let either me or Aster hurt him, because he definitely needed protecting from us. Not like Aster wouldn't have <em>died</em> for him if he'd asked her to, and I didn't already assume Dumbledore knew I was a necromancer, seeing as he <em>was</em> there when I channelled his bloody <em>mum</em>, or anything, but <em>whatever</em>. Dorea asked Slughorn to ask Narcissa to keep an eye on Aster for her. Aster, Narcissa, Reggie, and Sev had a secret family meeting about me.</p>
<p>"Were you joking about Narcissa and Regulus, by the way? Because Sev wasn't sure, but I could totally see it. And Cissa would be a <em>great</em> Lady Black."</p>
<p>Aster was briefly thrown by the abrupt conversational detour. "What? No, they've fancied each other for <em>years</em>."</p>
<p>"Really?"</p>
<p>"Dark Powers, Bella, <em>yes</em>!" Zee scoffed. "They're bloody <em>obvious</em> about it!"</p>
<p>"Obviously they're not <em>that</em> obvious," Bella said, as though it was perfectly reasonable that she'd never noticed her baby sister fancying her (more boring) first cousin. "Why didn't you say something? Why didn't <em>Cissy</em> say something? Bloody stupid... Never mind, I'll talk to her about it later. Don't forget to give her mirror back," she reminded Evans.</p>
<p>"<em>Yes, Mum</em>," Evans said, her voice thick with sarcasm and amusement.</p>
<p>Bella just blinked at her for a long moment. (Aster agreed, hearing someone call her <em>Mum</em>, even sarcastically, was bloody <em>weird</em>.) "...So, is that a yes, on the adoption thing?"</p>
<p>"Er...leaning toward yes? I was kind of hoping we'd be able to talk about it at some point, before you said you wanted to talk about me and Aster, and then we got distracted catching Mira up, and now with Cissa and Regulus— It's very hard to have a linear conversation with you people, you know."</p>
<p>As though Evans didn't give Aster conversational whiplash all the bloody time? She snorted. "You were the one who brought up Cissy and Reg," she reminded her.</p>
<p>Evans just shrugged, ignoring her hypocrisy. "Anyway, I had a meeting with Dumbledore yesterday. I asked Cissa to sit in, in case things went particularly badly and I needed someone who could make a legal argument for me to <em>not</em> have a blind date with a bloody dementor, and Aster tagged along because... Honestly, I'm not really sure. I mean, I'm not complaining, you're easier to play off of than Cissa, but I think we had it covered."</p>
<p>Aster pouted at her. "You're <em>family</em> now, Evans. You're my <em>sister</em>. If you really think I'd let you talk to Dumbledore alone, you're a fucking idiot." And then, because she really couldn't help herself, she asked Bella, "You didn't tell Cissy to treat her like a sister too, did you?"</p>
<p>Zee giggled. "Feeling a bit jealous, are we?"</p>
<p>Aster felt herself go pink. "Of course not, I...just want to know where we all stand. Is that too much to ask?"</p>
<p>Bella just gave her a vaguely patronising smile. "No, I told Cissy that she and Reggie can consider Asphodel a second-marriage first cousin once removed."</p>
<p>Right. Okay. In that case, Aster wasn't entirely certain what her being Evans's sister implied about her own relationship with Bella, but that was far less important at the moment than that, yes, she had been right, Cissy had actually been the one stepping on <em>her</em> toes in that meeting.</p>
<p>"Besides, I don't live with Cissa," Evans pointed out. "Didn't we talk about this the other day? I distinctly recall coming to a consensus on the fact that we share a nest, which makes us sisters."</p>
<p>Zee raised an eyebrow at Bella.</p>
<p>She shrugged. "Snake relationships are simpler than human relationships. Mostly because snakes don't really <em>have</em> relationships."</p>
<p>"I...see."</p>
<p>"They — these two and de Mort — spent like <em>twenty minutes</em> discussing the meaning of a bunch of indistinguishable meaningless hissing," Aster informed the skeptical Zee. "All I got out of it is that Bella and de Mort's relationship is totally incestuous."</p>
<p>Zee snorted. "It always has been. Though if you consider that problematic, I'd rethink whether you want to refer to Asphodel as your sister." Seven fucking hells, if Aster's face could stop getting all hot and embarrassed, that would be <em>great!</em> "Oh, sorry, love." Zee's eyes flicked between Aster and Evans, narrowed slightly in confusion. "Was that not...?"</p>
<p>"Did I know that Aster fancies me?" Evans asked. "Yes. Has Aster admitted it yet? No. She will, though. It's just a matter of time. And ear-scratches— You know she's an animagus, right?" Zee nodded, which was news to Aster, but not entirely <em>surprising,</em> since Bella had apparently filled her in on <em>Evans</em> being a bloody <em>necromancer</em>. "Yeah, well, she's such a sucker for completely platonic petting, I'm beginning to think no one's ever actually been nice to her before."</p>
<p>"They haven't, really." <em>Damn it, Zee!</em> Aster was pretty sure her face was <em>literally glowing</em>. "So, what happened in the meeting with the Old Goat?"</p>
<p>"Ah, well, it was going fairly well, I thought, right up until Dumbles mentioned that Potter had told him that I'm a necromancer. Which, as I think I said, I had already assumed Dumbledore <em>knew</em> that, I had an alternative explanation for my channelling his mum ready — namely, he delayed the ritual, there was bleedthrough and, poor little muggleborn that I am, I didn't realise how important grounding is when you're at the centre of a major working like that, blah, blah, blah. But Aster kind of...froze, when she realised that Potter had ratted me out, and Cissa decided that driving it home that the Light are utter toe-rags was more important than showing solidarity, and I tried to smack her, which was probably stupid, but she was being mean to Aster, and Aster already looked like Potter had just stabbed her in the fucking heart, making Cissa stop twisting the knife was really the least I could do.</p>
<p>"Which...apparently is a much bigger deal than I thought it was? I mean, I did say I was stealing you. You didn't actually expect me to just sit there and watch someone hurt you, did you?" When Aster didn't answer — she <em>couldn't</em>, because...yeah, she hadn't really believed Evans had really <em>meant </em>that she was staking a claim on Aster's loyalty until <em>that exact moment</em>, and...and she didn't know how she felt about the fact that she <em>was</em>, and that she was making a <em>bloody good job</em> of it — Evans went on, gesturing vaguely at Aster. "She just gave me <em>that</em> look for about ten seconds, and then took off. Which you'd better not be planning on doing again right now, Asteria. You're still injured, and you're obviously comfortable with Bella and Mira and myself, there's no need to run away from any of us."</p>
<p>Zee chuckled, meandering apparently aimlessly around the room, poking at the decor she'd probably designed — small abstract sculptures and animated landscape paintings, mostly — as she told Evans things Aster wasn't really sure she wanted her to know. (Though she wasn't sure enough to ask Zee to stop.) Not quite pacing, like Aster found herself doing slightly anxiously, drawn closer to the door entirely unconsciously — she hadn't even realised she was doing it until Evans pointed out that she looked like she wanted to run off again.</p>
<p>"Oh, but you see, she's <em>not</em> comfortable with you, Asphodel, darling. You're positively terrifying to dear Aster — acting like you care about her, like you'll <em>take</em> care of her, like no one else ever really has. Kindness, generally speaking, has been sorely lacking in Asteria's life, save when her family has attempted to use it to manipulate her in some fashion. She doesn't trust it. <em>That</em> look is love and terror and <em>need</em> and <em>it's too good to be true</em> and <em>I'm going to get burned again</em>. Not wanting to want the thing she wants more than anything in the entire world. There's no shame in wanting to belong to someone, Asteria."</p>
<p>Zee, somehow, was suddenly very close to Aster. She'd snuck up on her with her aimless wandering, their paths intersecting so when she turned to address her, a single step brought her too close for Aster to look her in both eyes, loose, tousled curls filling her peripheral vision. Warm hands cupped her face, holding her transfixed, surrounding her with understanding and sympathy and making it seem, as soon as she spoke to Aster directly, that they were the only two people in the room.</p>
<p>"But... But what if... What if she throws me away?" she found herself asking, the question fighting its way past her reluctant lips in a very small, hesitant voice. There might not be any shame in wanting to belong, but she didn't... She couldn't– <em>shouldn't</em>... Fine, yes, Zee was right, she was scared.</p>
<p>Zee gave her a soft smile. She was too close to see her mouth, but Aster could see it in the way her eyes crinkled, hear it in her voice when she said, "You don't really think she will. And that's why vows of fealty are reciprocal, love."</p>
<p>"So, you think I should...?" Zee's approval really shouldn't mean this much, but Zee <em>wasn't a crazy person</em>. Or at least, not the same kind of crazy as Aster and Bella. A bubble of hope rose in her chest at the thought that she <em>might</em> think that Aster swearing herself to Evans <em>wasn't</em> a terrible, entirely mad idea — the sort of idea she ought to think was terrifying and reckless and absolutely <em>should not</em> act on <em>immediately</em>, without another moment's thought, because Evans wasn't exactly a Lady, but she had the potential to be a really good one, exactly the sort of person she'd always been taught to admire, to respect — the sort of person she'd been taught to <em>be</em>, when she'd been the heir to the House — and Bella approved of her, and what else did she need to know?</p>
<p>"It's your choice, Asteria. I've hardly met Asphodel, and I would caution you not to do anything rash if I thought it would make any difference to speak of, but... Do you trust her?"</p>
<p>That <em>was</em> what it all came down to, really, wasn't it? Trusting your lord to follow through on their promises, keep their word and protect you to the best of their ability. Trusting their judgment, that they would hold your honour and your life in high regard, that they wouldn't betray you, or ask you to betray yourself. That they would lead you true, give you direction and purpose — that they would <em>be there</em> when you needed them.</p>
<p>It was just...Zee was right. The idea of trusting Evans was fucking terrifying. Well, not quite that, exactly. The idea that she <em>already</em> trusted Evans — of <em>admitting</em> that she trusted Evans — was terrifying. Trusting people was a <em>weakness</em>, if you trusted them, they could hurt you, like James, betraying his vow, or Bella, when Aster had thought that Cruciatus meant Bella hated her.</p>
<p>But that...didn't really matter. Because as much as Aster didn't <em>want</em> to be a crazy person, throwing herself into one thing after the next, even if she <em>wanted</em> to take the maybes and what-ifs into account and maybe for once be more reserved about trusting someone, she couldn't. She did already trust Evans, even if she didn't want to admit it, even to herself. She might've <em>hated</em> her until about a week and a half ago, but she did <em>know</em> her.</p>
<p>Yes, she was a coldhearted, manipulative bitch, but when she made a promise, she kept it, and she definitely understood Aster better than James ever had. (Low bar maybe, but.) Granted, most of the promises she'd made to Aster over the past five years had been swearing to get her back for whatever prank she'd just pulled on Snape, and she'd most memorably used her understanding of Aster to set off the chain of events that led to her entire fucking world <em>imploding</em> over the past two months, but that didn't change the fact that she was...reliable. Predictable. (Death <em>did</em> tend to be.) Kind of like the fact that the idea of her attempting to defend Aster (for example, from Narcissa) was slightly ridiculous, wouldn't stop her from trying. Well, Evans trying to defend her in a physical or magical altercation was ridiculous. Evans trying to ruin someone's life over making her cry would probably be scarily effective. (Reggie was <em>so</em> lucky Snape liked him.)</p>
<p>And she'd be lying if she said the ear scratching <em>wasn't</em> a factor. Not just the actual physical contact, though that <em>was</em> nice. They'd only had a truce for...twelve days? (fuck, it seemed <em>much</em> longer than that — it'd been a hell of a week) and Evans had already demonstrated that she would put up with Aster being a neurotic fucking mess in a way no one else she knew would. She'd even <em>gone out of her way</em> to find Aster and make her feel better last night, which was kind of...<em>more</em> than just letting Aster curl up next to her as a dog when <em>she </em>came to <em>Evans</em>. Kind of a <em>lot</em> more.</p>
<p>She obviously didn't <em>really</em> care, not like Marley, for example (if she were still speaking to Aster), or Dorea or Moony. They would feel bad that she felt bad (and probably shower her with useless platitudes or some shite trying to make her feel better), and Aster was pretty fucking certain that any show of sympathy Evans put on was exactly that: a show. But it was a pretty fucking good show, and not nearly as important as her willingness, for whatever unfathomable reason, to just <em>be there</em> with Aster when the rest of the world was falling apart, making sure she wasn't alone and finding ways to get Aster to do things that were a hell of a lot more effective than <em>platitudes</em> for making her feel better.</p>
<p>It had been less than two weeks, and she'd already seen Aster at two of the lowest moments in her entire life, and instead of taking advantage of that to hurt her in some way, she'd helped. Even when she <em>really</em> didn't have to. Even when it would've been much easier for her to just stay up at the school last night, or even just let Aster wallow in her misery under her desk on Samhain. She hadn't <em>needed</em> to drag Aster out and make her take a purification bath — part of that whole <em>thing</em> was that everything going on <em>before</em> the bath was outside of the ritual space, the time and place of liminality whose beginning it defined, and therefore outside of your immediate focus after the bath. (Which had made it <em>much</em> easier to face the idea of leaving the room at all, helped her keep her head seeing James again not an hour later.) She <em>definitely</em> hadn't needed to follow her out to that cave and cast lashing hexes at her until she couldn't feel anything else, couldn't <em>think </em>at <em>all</em>, just...blissfully numb, her mind quiet and calm for once.</p>
<p>And, well, she hadn't been wrong about Aster feeling like she needed to be punished for fucking up <em>everything</em>, it wasn't out of the question that she would've taken it into her head to do something stupid and dangerous and maybe get herself killed if she'd been alone, but even so, it <em>did</em> take a certain amount of trust to just <em>sit there</em> and let someone throw dark magic at you, even if you <em>did</em> kind of ask them to.</p>
<p>And there really wasn't much point trying to deny that trust, even if admitting it was slightly terrifying. Not when she'd just kind of demonstrated it in a major, very tangible way (as her back could attest).</p>
<p>
  <em>Are you a Gryffindor or not, Asteria? Grow a fucking spine...</em>
</p>
<p>"...Yes." She breathed the word out so quietly she thought Zee might not have heard it, even standing as close to Aster as she was at the moment, but she smiled again.</p>
<p>"Well, there you are, then." She released Aster's face and stepped back, turning her toward the sofa Evans had commandeered with a gentle hand on her elbow. "Go on, love. Sit down."</p>
<p>She did. Probably closer to Evans than necessary, but she didn't object, just raised her arm so Aster could lean into her more comfortably. (Since she couldn't really lean <em>back</em> at the moment.) Zee smiled at them like Aster had done something right, like she was proud of her. She closed her eyes, rather than see it, that sincere certainty — that <em>alone</em> was almost enough to make her do it, especially now that she knew she could. That it wasn't somehow...wrong (<em>mad</em>), deciding to follow Evans, rather than try to make her way through <em>life</em> all alone and lost and confused.</p>
<p>Evans, meanwhile, was staring at Zee with the most open look of admiration Aster had ever seen on her. "How did you <em>do</em> that?" she asked, turning to peer down at the girl tucked under her arm as though she'd never seen her before in her life.</p>
<p>"Oh, shut up," Aster grumbled under her breath.</p>
<p>"Zee's kind of obnoxiously good at people, that's how," Bella offered, draping herself across an armchair. Zee was kind of <em>unfairly</em> good at people, Aster suspected she was cheating somehow, even if she had no idea <em>how</em>.</p>
<p>She took a seat as well, giving Evans a deceptively innocent smile. "Years of practice, darling. Now, where were we?"</p>
<p>"At the part where Dorea and Albus Dumbledore are unsurprisingly terrible at managing crazy people, so Narcissa called me to deal with the situation. Lots of tedious arguing about in circles. Dorea demanded we fetch her fucking spawn to make sure Aster hadn't murdered him — not that anyone would blame you if you had." Aster snorted. <em>Bella</em> might not, but everyone else probably would. "He tried to convince me that he <em>wasn't</em> at fault in this little mess because you scared him, as though <em>that's</em> any excuse. I had to step out before I just up and <em>strangled</em> the little brat, so I brought Asphodel to Asteria, she'd run off to the middle of nowhere to hide in a cave, which I suppose running away is a slightly less awful way to deal with problems than trying to violently murder them. Slightly."</p>
<p>Zee let an amused little smirk creep onto her face, though she quickly suppressed it. Mustn't encourage Bella to violently murder people, after all. Not when there are witnesses around. Even if they <em>are</em> witnesses who already <em>know </em>you're colder than <em>Bella</em>, and at <em>least</em> as dark. <em>De Mort</em> had once told Aster that Zee was a manipulative, morally-bankrupt little minx, who might actually be dangerous if she were inclined to turn her talents toward more productive goals than imitating a bloody veela, sans mind magic, which was perhaps the most complimentary thing Aster had ever heard him say about anyone. (Aster had been about eight at the time, and had pretty much only understood that <em>de Mort</em> thought Zee was dark — on a scale of people like him and Bella — and not actually the kind, charming, soft-hearted, Meda-like person Aster had thought she was the first several times they'd met.)</p>
<p>"You...didn't actually murder the Potter boy, did you?"</p>
<p>"No, I dragged him into the Shadows and lectured him about keeping our promises for a while, and then left him there to consider his choices for, oh...maybe a quarter of an hour, before Dorea's panicking got too shrill and repetitive to be amusing and Dumbledore started threatening to escalate the situation and try to <em>force</em> me to bring him back, which, good luck with that, but James fucking Potter is a bloody stupid thing to get into a duel to the death over, and Thom would be annoyed if I hurt his precious school, so I did pull him out. She shuffled him off to the Hogwarts hospital wing for some sort of nerve soothing tonic, the Old Goat used the wards to eject me from the Castle, because <em>apparently</em> leaving children alone in the Dark to think about what they've done wrong is <em>traumatising</em> and <em>we don't do that, Bellatrix</em> — bloody stupid, if you ask me, writing lines is just tedious, barely any incentive at all not to do exactly as you please, but whatever."</p>
<p>"You... You just <em>left him in the Dark</em>?" Aster repeated, slightly incredulously, lips twitching as she tried not to laugh. She shouldn't, being left alone in the Dark was one of the most existentially terrifying things she could imagine, but... "Did he piss himself?"</p>
<p>Bella raised an eyebrow at her slightly vindictive tone. Aster just shrugged — it had kind of surprised her, too. "He did, yes. Disgusting little twit. He was damn near catatonic when I pulled him back out, gibbering like the mindless idiot he is."</p>
<p>"Is being left in the Shadows <em>really</em> that terrible?" Evans asked, sounding rather skeptical about the whole thing. "I mean, it's kind of <em>weird</em>, not being able to see with your eyes, and I'm not sure I've quite wrapped my head around how orienting yourself works, yet, but... It's not <em>that</em> bad, is it?"</p>
<p>"<em>Yes</em>," Aster informed her, in concert with Zee, who looked absolutely horrified at the thought. "It's bad enough when you're with someone who can actually find their way around and get back to the real world, and I'm <em>good</em> at magic-sensing. Being <em>left there</em>, especially if you can't understand anything you're feeling, would be like, I don't even know. Getting chucked through the Veil, maybe? Except not being dead, yet — with the possibility of being painfully killed and/or eaten alive by some eldritch horror you can't even see coming."</p>
<p>"The most dangerous denizens anywhere near Hogwarts are bloody boggarts," Bella informed her.</p>
<p>"Yeah, well, I didn't know that, so I'm pretty sure James doesn't know that." In fact, James might not even know what shadow-walking was, period. That would make it even worse. (<em>Good.</em>) "And Magic doesn't like him nearly as much as it likes you, Evans. He probably couldn't understand <em>anything</em> that was going on. I'd be kind of surprised if he actually heard Bella lecturing him, beyond just getting that she was bloody furious." After all, it wasn't just that you couldn't <em>see </em>with your <em>eyes</em> in Shadows, you also couldn't <em>hear</em> with your <em>ears</em>. Aster's (brief and terrifying) experience of it was really more like 'hearing' de Mort in her head.</p>
<p>"So, wait...do I need to poison him, or not?"</p>
<p>Bella grinned. "If he's stupid enough to try to talk to Aster again, go for it."</p>
<p>Zee tipped her eyes toward the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. "I doubt that will be necessary, Asphodel. Dorea is an intelligent woman — she'll ensure that her son knows why Bella was terrorising him, regardless of whether he understood her lecturing him or not. And while I know what he did to Aster was unconscionable, I would consider being left in the Dark to be a psychological trauma on par with being left in the company of a dementor for several months, at least."</p>
<p>"When've you met a dementor?" Bella asked, immediately distracted. Though, Aster was actually kind of curious about that, too.</p>
<p>"I <em>haven't</em>. I've met plenty of people who've spent a month or two in Azkaban for minor offences, though, and if I were abandoned in the Dark for any period of time with no assurance that I would be rescued, I'm quite certain I would be as thoroughly traumatised as any of them."</p>
<p>"Oh, okay."</p>
<p>"Why?" Zee asked, rather than try to explain that <em>no</em>, actually, traumatising someone as thoroughly as a couple of months with a dementor, super casually, wasn't okay by outsiders' standards, even if he <em>had</em> kind of just crushed Aster's soul. (Which Aster <em>knew</em>, she just didn't <em>care</em> — he <em>deserved</em> to be just as miserable as he'd made her.)</p>
<p>Bella shrugged. "Well, when Thom and I were talking about recruiting them, I suggested you might be a good intermediary, you know, since they can't really talk to me and they don't really like Thom. I didn't think they'd bother you that much. He thinks you'd try to stab them or something, which I thought was hilarious. Not really important, I just wondered if one of us was right."</p>
<p>"...Right..." Zee muttered, glaring suspiciously at Bella. "I'm just going to head off that train of thought <em>right</em> there — I don't <em>want</em> to meet a dementor, please don't arrange for me to 'accidentally' run into one just to see what would happen."</p>
<p>"You're no fun."</p>
<p>"Your idea of fun isn't actually fun for anyone other than you."</p>
<p>"And Thom," Bella pointed out lightly. "And Aster." Aster felt her face grow warm again, but she couldn't really <em>deny</em> that last night had been...good? in a way, if not exactly what she would call <em>fun</em>. "And I don't think Asphodel was really <em>not</em> having fun last night, at least until she freaked out about maybe actually hurting Aster."</p>
<p>"Oh? And what exactly happened last night?"</p>
<p>"Well, from what Asphodel told me, I gather she decided to cement her claim on Aster by instigating a power-exchange game—"</p>
<p>"That's not <em>why</em> I suggested it!" Evans protested. "Aster was just so <em>miserable</em>, and she didn't <em>need</em> to be, <em>she</em> didn't do anything wrong, and she was feeling so guilty about everything going wrong like it was all her fault and she needed to suffer for fucking it up, so I— I thought it might help, if I did something and said, okay, that's enough, you've been punished, we can move on, instead of her just...torturing herself, being miserable and guilty until she thought she'd suffered enough and was ready to forgive herself."</p>
<p>Zee was nodding, as though that actually made some degree of sense, which...Aster wasn't really sure if the whole thing hadn't been as absolutely mad as it seemed when Evans said it now, in the light of day, or if Zee was just used to crazy-people logic.</p>
<p>"So you engineered a moment of catharsis for her," she summarised, which sounded much more official and was definitely a phrase Aster should remember when she inevitably had to talk to McKinnon about it, because <em>attempting to achieve a moment of catharsis</em> sounded much more like the sort of thing a mind-healer would approve of than asking someone to flog her until she felt less shite for ruining her entire life.</p>
<p>"I...guess? I don't know, I'm not a bloody shrink, it just...seemed right."</p>
<p>Bella made a speculative little humming sound. "In that case, I think you missed the mark a bit."</p>
<p>"I do feel better today, though," Aster objected.</p>
<p>"Obviously. But the thing about Asphodel punishing you physically instead of you punishing yourself by wallowing in your angst and guilt and all those silly negative emotions is, <em>she</em> should have been the one to decide what was appropriate to address the transgression, and when you were done. Also, catharsis is supposed to be like a break-through, emotional release sort of thing. You have to build up to it. Lulling someone into a pain-trance is different."</p>
<p>Zee gave Bella a look like <em>who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend</em>. "How the hell would you know that? Not <em>Thom</em>, surely...?"</p>
<p>Bella snorted. "No, Thom's in it for the physical stimulation and pushing his limits, not the weird emotional orgasms. Marc explained when I asked him what <em>he</em> gets out of our sessions. Which is pretty much entirely incomprehensible, but I'm used to normal people not making any bloody sense by now. I probably shouldn't have expected to understand the answer in the first place."</p>
<p>"Marcus Rosier is not a normal person, Bella. And even if he were, it's not as though all people who aren't you and/or Thom are all emotionally identical anyway."</p>
<p>Bella ignored that interjection entirely. "Whatever, point is, Princess, if you'd done it right, Aster would have accepted your judgment that last night was enough, she doesn't need to suffer through healing slowly to justify not feeling like shite about things she didn't really need to feel like shite about in the first place."</p>
<p>"...Oh." Aster fancied there was a hint of annoyance and disapproval in that single syllable, so she wasn't <em>entirely</em> surprised that Evans followed up with, "Stop feeling like shite, Aster! Bella agrees with me that none of this is really your fault, anyway!" glaring down at her and poking the top of her shoulder.</p>
<p>"Evans, if I could just <em>stop feeling like shite</em> whenever I wanted, do you think I would choose to sit around feeling like shite? It doesn't work like that. Just accept that I'm fucked in the head and move on."</p>
<p>"You're not just <em>deciding </em>not to feel like shite, I'm <em>giving you permission</em> to not feel like shite. There's a difference."</p>
<p>It didn't work like <em>that</em> either, but before Aster could really articulate <em>why</em> or <em>how</em> or...<em>whatever</em>, Zee giggled, looking at the two of them like <em>aren't you just adorable</em>. "I know Thom probably wasn't nearly this cute at sixteen, but can you imagine tiny, pouting Thom telling Candy Malfoy to get his head out of his arse and stop being miserable over being a hopeless fop, or whatever?" she asked Bella.</p>
<p>"Don't be ridiculous, Zee, there was no room for Candidus's head up his arse, it was already fully occupied by that enormous bloody <em>stick</em>. If anything it would've been him telling Thom to stop being such an overly-dramatic, brooding sod — I gather he wasn't really <em>adorable</em> but he did have a tendency to over-act on occasion. Not unlike this morning, really."</p>
<p>"Wait, Mister Sparkly Lamia Princess was having me on about being a stroppy arse?"</p>
<p>"Oh, well, he really was tired and annoyed, but he goes all cold and flat and <em>entirely unamused</em> when he's really angry. He may not <em>like</em> you keeping him up, but he can't deny that Asphodel literally kicking him off the bed when he tried to get away from your unconscious snuggling by putting her between the two of you is fucking hilarious."</p>
<p>"...Oops?" Evans repeated.</p>
<p>Zee seemed to be having trouble breathing, she was laughing so hard. "Really?"</p>
<p>"Yes, really. I've been informed that I'm to put them up at Ancient House from now on — there are to be no more teenage girls spending the night in Thom's bed."</p>
<p>"Why didn't you just take us to Ancient House in the first place?" Aster asked, as Zee giggled even harder at the idea of Thom fucking teenagers. (Other than Zee and Bella when they were younger, Aster presumed.)</p>
<p>"Too many people keyed into the wards. Including Dorea."</p>
<p>Right. Dorea. "Why did you ask Arcturus to revoke her custody of me, exactly? And does she know it wasn't my idea?" Because Aster <em>liked</em> Dorea, even if Dorea often clearly didn't understand her. Bella had already suggested that Aster might be a danger to Dorea and James, she didn't want Dorea to think she hated her, too.</p>
<p>"Yes, yes, she knows you had nothing to do with it. She even knows it has nothing to do with where you spend your summer hols, and who you associate with outside of school. I can <em>tell</em> you not to go over to Rock-on-Clyde, but you're not a <em>child</em>, I'm not going to <em>stop</em> you." Oh, really? Because that was <em>not</em> the impression Aster had gotten from her earlier declaration that Aster no longer lived with the Potters. "I just wanted to make it as clear as possible that I think she's unfit to raise a child of the House of Black. Or any other child, for that matter. Not that it makes much difference at this point, but it's the principle of the thing. And if I'm going to make it my business to start going around adopting people, I might as well take you in, too."</p>
<p><em>What?</em> That didn't even make <em>sense</em>. Aster was <em>already</em> a Black, Bella 'adopting' her wouldn't make even the <em>tiniest</em> bit of difference in her standing within the House, or in Britain at large. "<em>Why</em>?"</p>
<p>"So you don't have to impersonate me to send Zee flowers, obviously."</p>
<p>Oh. Right. She'd forgotten about that, sending Zee a <em>thank you for helping me turn myself into a girl, sorry I woke you in the middle of the night</em> gift. She didn't have access to the Family's money anymore, what with being disinherited and all. She couldn't just go grab some coins out of the vault at the bank, so she'd taken a couple drops of aging potion and told the florist to send a bill to the House. People <em>knew</em> that Sirius Black was <em>persona non grata</em>, but she didn't really look like Sirius when she wore feminine robes and hairstyles. Well, her hair looked the same, but no one outside of Hogwarts knew she'd worn it that way as Sirius, too. No one had questioned her when she said she was Bellatrix Black. (Which was even true, anyway, seeing as <em>someone</em> thought he was funny.) Arcturus must have thought it was odd that Bella had been sending flowers to someone and asked her about it. "Ah...sorry. I didn't think you'd mind."</p>
<p>She waved it off. "I don't. But if I adopt you, you get a spot on the Family Tree again, inheritance rights and all."</p>
<p>Did Aster <em>want</em> a spot on the Family Tree again? She...wasn't really sure. If Bella had offered to adopt her two years ago, she would've said yes in a fucking heartbeat, but— Wait. "You think <em>Dorea's</em> a bad parent, but you don't think <em>Walburga's</em> a bad parent? If you're just going to flounce in and start adopting people, you couldn't have done it when I was fucking <em>seven</em>?"</p>
<p>"Walburga's <em>not</em> a bad parent. She taught you all the shite she was supposed to teach you. The fact that you hate her is kind of immaterial. And I can pretty much guarantee that if I'd taken you when you were seven, you'd hate me even more than you hate her."</p>
<p>"Doubt it," Aster grumbled. Bella, at least, hadn't made her do dark magic. Not outside of the Holidays, anyway.</p>
<p>"Ah, no, you would have. The only examples I'd ever had of how to raise a child were <em>Cygnus, Druella</em>, and <em>Thom</em>, raising <em>me</em>. Even leaving out the Imperius, any failure, any slip with Cygnus, was punished with disproportionate violence and pain, and standards moved, so I was never, <em>ever</em> good enough. Plus, Dru's <em>Dru</em>."</p>
<p>Auntie Druella was scarily intelligent, absurdly accomplished, and generally made everyone around her look like clumsy, bumbling idiots just by existing. Even <em>Bella</em> seemed <em>unrefined</em> in comparison. Well, Bella was just as accomplished and intelligent, and more graceful in a dangerous, predatory way, but when they were in a room together, Dru somehow managed to make the very idea of being a terrifyingly effective battlemage, rather than a sophisticated Society lady, seem...<em>positively barbaric</em>. Slightly distasteful, even. She also <em>hated</em> childish immaturity, rudeness, and crassness, had <em>no</em> patience for mistakes, and demanded perfection from everyone around her at all times, on pain of verbal evisceration. Walburga had made <em>her</em> teach Aster and Narcissa (and Reggie) history, <em>practical</em> politics, languages, and the non-magical arts when they were small, and Bella was still in school. Aster was pretty sure even Narcissa had left every one of her lessons feeling just as stupid and incompetent as she had, they were <em>miserable</em>.</p>
<p>"You would not <em>believe </em>what I considered to be realistic expectations when I was in school. And <em>Thom's</em> approach when I was a child was to let me read whatever I liked, with no structure whatsoever, and make me practise dueling spells thousands of times in a row so I'd leave him alone and let him get his <em>own</em> work done. Since that's not really a good way to learn boring shite like ettiquite and potions, I'm pretty sure you would've hated having me as a guardian."</p>
<p>"Are you fucking kidding me? You taught all of us loads of shite when we were kids!"</p>
<p>"I taught you <em>fun</em> things. Magic theory. History. Strategy. Flying, dancing, and dueling. And honestly, half the time I was just teaching you to play games. The sort of shite Dru came up with to keep me busy when I was that age, and otherwise unoccupied — I didn't realise that counted as teaching at the time. And besides, it honestly never occurred to me. I was <em>your age</em> when Orion cursed you. Still in school most of the year. Would <em>you</em> think you could do a better job raising a kid than Walburga, starting <em>today</em>?"</p>
<p>Well, <em>no</em>, but...</p>
<p>Bella correctly interpreted her silence. "Yeah, that's what I thought. If you want me to adopt you <em>now</em>, though, or in a couple of weeks I suppose, I can do that."</p>
<p>"<em>Can</em> you, though? Would Pater sign off on it? He <em>did</em> disinherit me just a few months ago, if you recall."</p>
<p>"For being a selfish little shite and attacking the House in a spiteful act of defiance, refusing to bow to his will and Walburga's for <em>years</em>, and generally acting like a mad, sixteen-year-old Black? Yes, I recall. But the Dark has forgiven you, and breaking the Covenant just means that the gods won't find some way to save us from our own suicidal recklessness. Arcturus has done far more damage to the Family through his apathy the past five decades. And I'd like to see him try to refuse me. Though if I do have to usurp him over this, I may have to actually marry Cissy and Reg to each other so I can abdicate the position in favour of Cissy." She shrugged. "Really, knowing that would work actually makes things a lot easier. He knows <em>I</em> don't want the job, if I can turn around and give it to her, that's actually more leverage for me. Not that I wouldn't have gotten my way on this <em>anyway</em>, but."</p>
<p>"You should do it!" Evans said enthusiastically. "Then we'd be sisters for real!"</p>
<p>Yeah, now that she mentioned it, that was probably why Bella had said that Aster should treat her like a sister in the first place. Of course, that just meant that their...whatever was going on with the two of them would be just as weirdly incestuous as Bella and de Mort, but she doubted Evans actually <em>cared</em>.</p>
<p>"So, that <em>is</em> a yes on the adoption thing, then?" Bella asked yet again.</p>
<p>"I haven't even had a chance to fill her in on what being adopted actually <em>means</em>, Bella." They'd gotten distracted by Lord Sparklebum before they'd gotten past the <em>political</em> implications of wardship and/or adoption. And the legal ones, kind of. The <em>pro</em> legal reasons to do it, at least. Namely, not having Dumbledore as a <em>de facto</em> guardian, and being recognised as a member of the House of Black beyond her seventeenth birthday. There <em>were</em> cons, too, though. Especially since they probably weren't talking just a name-and-magic adoption, here.</p>
<p>"Any reasonable person would say that the advantages that come with membership in the House of Black far outweigh any other considerations," Zee argued.</p>
<p>"Are you sure? Because <em>I'm</em> pretty sure that most reasonable people would say even the smallest chance of getting the Black Madness outweighs...pretty much everything else."</p>
<p>Zee raised an eyebrow at Aster's comment. "I thought that was a blood thing, not a Family Magic thing."</p>
<p>"It is," Bella informed her. "The House of Black uses a blood adoption ritual. It uses blood magic to essentially make a member of the House a third biological parent to the adoptee. It's illegal, of course, and we'd have to wait until you turn seventeen to officially adopt you <em>outside</em> of the House — as though a few months makes <em>such</em> a difference in one's ability to decide what one wants to do with one's life."</p>
<p>"A lot can happen in a few months," Aster had to point out. <em>A few months ago</em> she was still Sirius, and hadn't yet broken the Covenant.</p>
<p>"Well, <em>sure</em>, but you were just as capable of making major decisions a few months ago. Or are you actually <em>regretting</em> breaking the Covenant?" That was said with a teasing grin, because Bella knew as well as anyone that she didn't.</p>
<p>"It seemed like a good idea at the time."</p>
<p>Though it <em>was</em> a point that, a few months ago, she hadn't really understood the meaning of that phrase, or why Bella had always told her there was no point second-guessing anything as long as you always did whatever seemed best, knowing what you knew at the time. She'd probably known that Aster would eventually end up going mad and doing some really stupid shite that would, in hindsight, be <em>obviously stupid</em>, even though it absolutely seemed reasonable and not at all catastrophically self-destructive when she did it. In that light, it made a <em>lot</em> of sense to insist that if you always made the best choices you could, there was nothing <em>to</em> regret.</p>
<p>Aster had occasionally made <em>bad</em> choices, but she usually knew she was doing it, just decided not to care. And she couldn't really complain about the consequences when she deliberately did the wrong thing, which included bitching and moaning and wishing she could go back and change the past. She could probably count on one hand the things she <em>actually </em>regretted. The only two coming to mind at the moment were telling Reggie about the Yule ritual when she was seven — if she hadn't, Orion wouldn't have lost his temper and almost killed her — and fucking Evans.</p>
<p>And honestly? She didn't even <em>really</em> regret fucking Evans anymore. She <em>had</em>, when she'd still thought she could fix things with James, wishing she'd never fucked things up in the first place, but now that she knew how little he cared for her, how little he <em>respected</em> her, she kind of thought she might've lucked into doing the best possible thing she could have at the time, despite <em>knowing</em> at the time that it was a <em>bad choice</em>.</p>
<p>Zee, finally recovered from her bout of helpless giggles, groaned. "Are you doing that on purpose?"</p>
<p>"What?" they asked in concert.</p>
<p>"<em>You</em>," she said, pointing at Aster, "acting like <em>her</em>." Bella.</p>
<p>"Not...really?" Well, <em>kind of</em>, Bella had taught her that, but she wasn't going out of her way to say shite Bella would say, not like when she'd played Bella for Dorea, the day after her metamorphosis.</p>
<p>"Aster's <em>always</em> acted a lot like me, Zee, she doesn't have to <em>try</em>. Anyway, I doubt Kore would let you pick up the Madness, so I wouldn't worry about it."</p>
<p>"There are other things to worry about, though," Zee said, rather disapprovingly.</p>
<p>"Like what?"</p>
<p>"Like the fact that you two look <em>nothing</em> alike, perhaps? As I understand it, her physical appearance is likely to change rather obviously, is it not? And there are only so many ways to explain such a change."</p>
<p>Bella shrugged. "I'd guess she'll probably end up with darker hair, but she can always charm it red again, or tell people she's decided to charm it dark."</p>
<p>"And what if she ends up significantly shorter, or something? You should at least try to be <em>discrete</em> about doing illegal blood magic in Britain, Bella. Even the House of Black isn't entirely untouchable."</p>
<p>"I know, I know. Especially with Arcturus as Head. But honestly? I could be staging an annual Wild Hunt, or displaying the gruesomely-murdered bodies of my enemies in the middle of public streets, or razing other Houses' ancestral keeps to the ground for relatively minor insults, or not-so-subtly taking over half of Europe." All of which were things the House had rather notoriously <em>done </em>in centuries past. "If the worst thing they think I'm doing is the occasional blood ritual on members of my own House, the ruling class of Britain should be more relieved than anything."</p>
<p>"And if certain individuals who know that occasional blood rituals <em>aren't </em>the worst thing you're doing use it as an excuse to get you in front of the Wizengamot? sentence you to Azkaban just to get you off the battlefield for a while?"</p>
<p>The Dark Lady smirked at her girlfriend, obviously thinking her overly cautious. "If the Light have the votes to sentence me over a bloody <em>adoption</em> — which I don't think they do — and <em>if</em> I <em>let</em> them take me to Azkaban in the first place, you don't <em>really</em> think they could <em>keep</em> me there, do you?"</p>
<p>"It doesn't really matter, does it?" Evans said, heading off Zee's response. "I mean, I can just use glamours like Thom does, at least until I'm out of school. It's not as though people go around touching me all that often, so it would just be visual. I might have to tie it to an enchanted ring or pendant or something, but if that's the biggest drawback..."</p>
<p>"The <em>biggest</em> drawbacks, or what I think you'll think are the biggest drawbacks," Aster explained, "are legal. And social, I guess. I was just getting to this, earlier. You're a member of the House of Black for legal purposes involving outsiders already. If you decide <em>not</em> to be adopted, you'll lose the protections and privileges of being a member of a Noble House, but as an independent, fully qualified, legal adult British mage, you'd be able to sign contracts and make important choices for yourself, without having to get Pater to sign off on them. <em>Inside</em> the House, you'd be swearing loyalty and fealty to the House, binding yourself to our house laws and integrating into the Family Magic. He could actually force you to obey his orders through the Family Magic, instead of just pressuring you with the threat of invalidating your wardship—"</p>
<p>"That's a non-issue," Bella interrupted. "He's dominated a member of the House through the Family Magic exactly <em>once</em> in the last twenty-five years, and that was because I threatened to execute Orion if he didn't."</p>
<p>Oh. Aster knew that Bella had threatened to kill Orion for her, but she hadn't realised that was the <em>only</em> time Pater had ever put a geas on anyone. "Why didn't he just <em>let</em> you?" she grumbled. Orion hadn't become a more tolerable parent <em>after</em> he'd been muzzled. He'd actually gotten <em>worse</em> — more resentful, temper shorter, <em>and </em>he'd started drinking. He just couldn't physically or magically hurt the kids himself, so he'd forced Walburga to curse them for him.</p>
<p>The question had been mostly rhetorical, but Bella answered it anyway. "Because <em>deferring</em> to me would have hurt his pride even more than <em>negotiating</em> with me. If you're letting a mad, sixteen-year-old schoolgirl make the judgments you should be making, and carry out fucking death sentences on her own recognisance, you might as well abdicate. And he couldn't abdicate in favour of Cygnus or Orion, and Walburga would have been little more than a puppet for Orion. <em>I</em> was still in school, and it's kind of tacitly acknowledged that making the Choice makes you less than ideal as a Head of House, anyway. So—"</p>
<p>"You <em>made the Choice?!</em>" Aster exclaimed, loudly enough that Evans flinched. "<em>When?!</em>"</p>
<p>"My seventh birthday. You didn't know?" No! No, she had <em>not</em> known! "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised — <em>I</em> don't go around talking about it, and the adults wouldn't have wanted to give you ideas about doing the same."</p>
<p>"What's the Choice?" Evans asked, looking from one of them to the next — including Zee, who didn't look surprised <em>at all</em>, she'd probably known Bella was a black mage for <em>years</em>.</p>
<p>"Eh, it's kind of irrelevant now that Aster's broken the Covenant between the House and the Dark. The bloodline <em>was</em> dedicated to the Dark in perpetuity by Onyx and Mela, the only survivors of a blood feud back in the Fifteenth Century. In exchange, they asked for the power to utterly destroy their enemies, and that the House would never die. This means we were born with our magic attuned to the dark end of the spectrum, and the Dark Itself already holding influence over our souls — in much the same way you were born with an unnatural affinity for Death, due to Kore ensuring that Harrison survived to bear you. There was a bit more negotiation which led to a declaration that if any of Onyx and Mela's descendants wanted to reach the same inhuman level of power that the Dark gifted to them, we would have to choose to dedicate <em>ourselves</em> on top of the bloodline dedication, and in exchange we would sacrifice our humanity — some would say our sanity. <em>That's</em> the Choice."</p>
<p>"So you gave up...?" Evans asked, her tone somewhere between horror and awe. Which, Aster supposed, was fair — a seven-year-old doing that kind of ritual was both horrifying, and kind of awesome. (Completely <em>mad</em>, but still.) Especially since Aster knew she had to have done it so she could fight back against the adults of the House more effectively.</p>
<p>Bella shrugged. "All of the shite emotions, basically, and the ability to empathise with most people in most situations. In exchange, Eris fucked with my mind to make me a perfect occlumens and re-made my body to channel <em>far</em> more magic than any seven-year-old ought to be able to handle. Kind of like Persephone did for you at Samhain, but...more."</p>
<p>Bella having made the Choice and dedicating herself to Eris actually explained a <em>lot</em>, Aster thought — no <em>wonder</em> she acted so much like the legendary Blacks they learned about when they were children, she was practically one of them — but... "Wait, you're not <em>actually</em> a sorceress?"</p>
<p>"Are you not <em>actually</em> a girl? If you mean, is Asphodel likely to inherit my channelling threshold, no, she's not. Thom's a fucking cheater, too, I have no idea what his was before he started using subsumption to increase it. You certainly won't end up <em>less</em> powerful, though," she assured Evans. "Maybe somewhere around Aster? Similarly, you probably won't lose any magical talents, even if you don't gain any. You <em>could</em>, but I sincerely doubt Fate would fuck over a necromancer like that."</p>
<p>"What do you mean?"</p>
<p>"The creepy mind-mage charisma thing, or being a Parselmouth," Aster explained. "You might end up being a proper legilimens, if it was really your channelling threshold that was holding you back, or you might end up with some of the less common Black magical talents, like annoyingly sensitive mage-sight, or something."</p>
<p>"Or Dru's sense of timing, maybe?" Bella suggested. "And Aster, I'm fairly certain I told you not to use that filtering charm, you'll never get used to mage-sight if you do."</p>
<p>"But <em>Bella</em>..." Aster whined. "It's like I'm seeing everything through a bloody <em>fog</em>, it's <em>terrible</em>."</p>
<p>"You're still interpreting the magical sensory input as visual because you always filter it out, so you haven't had to learn to interpret it directly. It should clear up in a couple of months if you stop using the charm."</p>
<p>As though the idea of walking around in a fog for <em>a couple of months</em> wasn't <em>kind of daunting</em>, given that she found <em>a couple minutes</em> of that shite to be vaguely maddening. Besides, "Not everyone's <em>you</em>, Bella. I didn't start using the charm for almost two years after I started coming into it. I think if I were going to get used to it, I would have!"</p>
<p>"I think you'd be surprised how much difference mastering your focusing and occlumency exercises makes, and if you don't even <em>try</em> to do something because you're not me and therefore assume that you can't, you're <em>definitely</em> not going to be able to do it. I may be fucking brilliant, unfairly gifted, and a cheating cheater who cheats—"</p>
<p>"Don't forget humble," Zee interjected.</p>
<p>"Oh, hush, you. I was going to say, none of that matters <em>nearly</em> as much as working your arse off to be as good as you possibly can. Aster's also unfairly gifted — it runs in the Family. And she's at least as stubborn as I am. You didn't bitch and moan and insist that you couldn't possibly meet the standards I set for you for focus or visualisation or precision or casting speed. Why on Earth should magical perception be any different?"</p>
<p>"<em>Because</em>, Bella! Using free conjuration to make anatomically correct constructs and creating multi-part illusions and casting thirty dueling charms in a minute are things other people can <em>do</em>!" Granted, they weren't things <em>most</em> people could do, and no one expected <em>children</em> to be able to do them — Aster had been <em>floored</em> when they'd started conjuration in Transfiguration, and she'd been informed that free conjuration was a NEWT topic, and even Transfiguration Masters didn't bother making <em>all</em> of their conjurations "properly" <em>all</em> the time. Bella had taught her conjuration when she was <em>nine</em> (she'd <em>barely</em> had the channelling capacity to pull it off; Narcissa hadn't managed it until she was eleven) — just (relatively) simple shite like leaves or paper or cotton cloth, but she'd <em>never</em> been allowed to fudge them. <em>Do it right, or don't do it at all</em> had been somewhat of an unofficial motto for Bella's lessons longer than Aster could remember. "Seeing patterns in ambient magic isn't something humans can <em>do</em>!"</p>
<p>"And only two mages in a thousand can possibly reach Hit Wizard combat standards; it's absolutely <em>impossible</em> for nine-year-olds to learn their Unforgivables; if you're fully attuned to one end of the magical spectrum, you shouldn't even bother trying to cast spells from the opposite end, the resistance would be <em>far</em> too high to hope to succeed; and becoming an animagus before you've fully come into your power is an absolutely <em>absurd</em> suggestion, that's <em>mastery-level</em> self-Transfiguration."</p>
<p>It wasn't <em>that</em> hard, really. Casting spells <em>on yourself</em> was always easier than forcing them on someone else, or even just the external universe. It was easier to transform into Padfoot than it would be to conjure a dog. (To the standard of conjuration Bella had set when she was a kid...which was probably <em>also</em> mastery-level, but really just a matter of visualising things really, <em>really</em> clearly, anyone could do that if they practised.) And she really <em>hadn't</em> been able to cast light magic properly before re-dedicating herself — she'd <em>barely</em> managed a non-corporeal Patronus-mist when Professor Vane had tried to teach them last year, and she'd had to over-channel to manage even <em>that</em>. And the Unforgivable curses were heavily emotion-based — even if a child couldn't channel enough magic to make them very <em>effective</em>, there was no reason a nine-year-old couldn't <em>form</em> the spells properly. (Disregarding the fact that casting the Imperius hurt like hell — making Cissy lick her feet had been worth it.) Which, fine, she got the point, but...</p>
<p>"Yeah, okay, but the only people who claim to be able to be able to interpret currents in ambient magic are <em>you</em>, and people who are bloody <em>possessed</em>."</p>
<p>Bella just shrugged. "Other people <em>do</em> have mage-sight, you know. It's the same ability. I don't really see why naturally having overly-sensitive metaphysical senses should be considered so much more unusual than having great eyesight or something. There are people who think we have too much magic in our blood, though," she admitted, turning back to Evans. "There's a correlation between channelling capacity and how mad we are, though that's more because being <em>up</em> makes it easier to channel magic than because being too close to Magic drives people mad. And the Black Madness is often conflated with the insanity often exhibited, historically, by Blacks who made the Choice, which, obviously, power and madness <em>are</em> linked in that case."</p>
<p>"Don't forget old Henry's eugenics programme," Zee added. "They've been purposefully selecting marriage partners with an eye toward magical prowess and a talent for battle-magic in particular for <em>centuries</em>. There's a certain degree of sadism and sociopathic disregard for the value of human life that goes along with that. And every single one of them is addicted to fighting."</p>
<p>"At least part of that comes out of the Covenant. We're all children of the Dark, you know that. And I still contend that if more people tried to kill each other on a regular basis, there would be far fewer viv addicts around."</p>
<p>"Huh?"</p>
<p>"Here, give me your hand," Bella said, holding out her own.</p>
<p>Evans did, rather cautiously. Understandable — the last time Bella had said that, she'd set Evans's dislocated finger. "Wh—" Aster felt Bella's magic washing through her, dark power pricking at her skin, before Evans could get the question out. "Oh <em>wow</em>..." She trailed off into breathless giggles. "What was <em>that?</em>"</p>
<p>"<em>That</em> is called being lit up. Viv is an alchemical drug. Taking it is kind of like that, but burning into the magic that maintains your actual <em>life</em> to sustain the magic high, rather than taking it from an outside source."</p>
<p>"Viv is horrible, disgusting stuff," Zee added, giving Bella a distinctly disapproving <em>look</em>. "If you really want to get high on magic, ask Bella or Thom to light you up, or just <em>summon Magic</em> — <em>don't</em> take viv. Most people who do only take it twice. The first time gets them hooked, and the second time they scrape together enough that they burn up before they have to come down, because the withdrawal is like overchannelling <em>and</em> experiencing magical exhaustion simultaneously."</p>
<p>"Ah...noted."</p>
<p>Bella, on the other hand, shrugged. "I don't think it's that bad, really."</p>
<p>"That, Bella, is because you're a fucking freak," Zee informed her, all flat and serious.</p>
<p>Bella giggled. "Anyway, fighting for your life is like that, but <em>better</em>." She gave them a mad grin. Aster knew even before she said it that her next words would be, "You've never really lived until someone's tried to kill you."</p>
<p>"Also noted." Aster could hear her silly, magic-high grin in her voice. "Speaking of summoning Magic, if you adopt me, I get to participate in the Black family rituals, right?"</p>
<p>"You can do that <em>now</em>, if you want," Bella noted. "But, yes, you'll be integrated into the family magic, and therefore expected to participate, especially at Yule."</p>
<p>"<em>Really?</em>"</p>
<p>"Don't sound so excited about that, Evans. The Yule ritual calls for a human sacrifice. Er...you knew that, right?" she asked Zee belatedly.</p>
<p>She smirked. "Of course. I've been helping Bella pick out good sacrifices for <em>years</em>."</p>
<p>Wait, what happened to Zee pretending to be a normal person? She just gave Aster's open shock a little shrug, and an even smaller roll of her eyes — <em>sometimes we all feel like making fuck the world choices</em>, unless Aster was entirely misinterpreting the gesture.</p>
<p>The idea of ritual murder <em>did</em> steal the wind from Evans's sails a bit, excited interest fading from her posture. "Oh. I'll think about it, I guess. Are there other things I should know? About being adopted, I mean," she added quickly, presumably in case Bella had opened her mouth to tell her more about the Yule ritual.</p>
<p>Which she might have done, because she closed it immediately, letting Aster explain, "The House would rightfully take priority over yourself at every level of concern — survival, obligation, interest, <em>et cetera</em>. Our House law excludes individuals from owning property, making contracts, and having independent external loyalties, and once you're part of the House — integrated into the Family Magic, I mean — the only way you can really <em>leave</em> is by being disowned." Or disowning the House, like Andromeda had, but Aster could tell Evans about that later, when Bella wasn't in the room with them. (Andromeda was still a touchy subject, five years after her decision to run off with her muggleborn beau.) "House Law almost always takes precedence over state law in most of those cases, even <em>criminal</em> cases that don't involve anyone from another House sometimes, so members of the House don't have many rights as individuals at all.</p>
<p>"Members of Noble Houses do have certain rights and privileges that are different from members of common Houses and independent mages unaffiliated with any particular House — I'll find you a book on that, it's all stupidly tedious." Evans shifted to look down at her, presumably giving her a look that said <em>and this isn't?</em> "Worse than this. But there are also responsibilities to client Houses and allies, and you have to uphold the image of the House, which means etiquette lessons, and comportment, and learning a lot of history you're probably never going to use unless you find yourself needing to defend mashed potatoes with the famous last words of rebel goblins. And—"</p>
<p>"Wait, wait, wait — defending <em>mashed potatoes</em>?" Bella interrupted, giggling at the absurdity of it.</p>
<p>Aster bit her lip to avoid doing the same. "Minnie tried to make me leave them when she kicked me out of the Samhain Feast. I declared them my Peak Cavern and insisted that I would not yield, and she was so taken aback she didn't even try to stop me taking them with me. Though I'm still not sure why she was kicking me out, anyway. I told her I'd be good," she added as innocently as she could.</p>
<p>Zee raised an eyebrow at her. "Good, or <em>good</em>?" she asked, with a heavily insinuating tone on the latter pronunciation.</p>
<p>"Very, <em>very</em> good, if you must know."</p>
<p>Evans snorted. "You <em>didn't</em>."</p>
<p>"Yes, I did. Why is this surprising? I've been saying shite like that to McGee for <em>years</em>."</p>
<p>She didn't really expect an answer, but she did want to know, so she was pleasantly surprised when Zee provided one. Less so when it turned out to be that, "Girls are expected by most people to be more reticent when it comes to sexual matters than boys, especially in mixed company. Sirius suggesting he'd like to shag Minerva McGonagall is improper and off-putting, but funny, especially since I imagine she would over-react to such a proposition. <em>Asteria </em>suggesting <em>she'd</em> like to shag her Head of House is positively perverted, and borderline disturbing."</p>
<p>"That's fucking moronic, Zee."</p>
<p>"I'm not saying it's not. But the extent to which you were raised without gendered expectations for your behaviour is anomalous, even among the Dark Houses."</p>
<p>"I hate everyone," Aster grumbled, changing the subject back to her list of all the terrible shite that went along with being a member of the House of Black. "Bella will probably insist you learn to defend yourself regardless of whether you choose to be properly adopted — see her <em>complete paranoia</em> about me being assassinated—"</p>
<p>"Paranoia suggests that there <em>isn't</em> an arithmantically significant probability that assassination will be your ultimate cause of death."</p>
<p>"You did the arithmancy on how I'm likely to <em>die</em>?!"</p>
<p>"Is that weird?" Bella asked, turning to Zee.</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Is it?" Evans asked, sounding surprised. "Muggles do actuarial statistics all the time, there are whole companies whose business it is to, well, essentially bet whether you're going to die prematurely."</p>
<p>"There's a difference between making an actuarial table, and figuring out how one person specifically is most likely to die. Most people don't want to <em>know</em> that."</p>
<p>"...Oh." Evans looked over at Bella, who gave her a confused shrug and a <em>normal people, right?</em> expression, because of course she did.</p>
<p>"<em>Anyway</em>, if you actually decide to be adopted, you'll have to memorise the house laws and the outcomes and major arguments in about a hundred and fifty important, precedent-setting Wizengamot decisions since the Statute was passed. You'll have to learn French, Welsh, and Gobbledygook at the <em>very</em> least, and be prepared to engage with members of other Noble Houses without embarrassing the House of Black, which means being able to discuss philosophy and music and art and current events, and/or avoid getting trapped in such tedious conversation without offending anyone, which is <em>much</em> easier said than done — or, if we don't like them, offending them just enough that they know we don't like them, but aren't so insulted that they can reasonably retaliate..."</p>
<p>Somehow, even as she continued to explain all the tedious social requirements that didn't <em>seem</em> like a big deal when taken individually, but all piled up to be obnoxious and stifling and <em>miserable</em>, Aster suspected that this was completely pointless. Evans was <em>definitely</em> going to say yes, regardless of how much annoying Society shite she might have to put up with and the dangers of being too closely associated with Bellatrix; the restrictions on individual freedoms that were inherent in their House Law; and even the chance that Persephone <em>wouldn't</em> intervene to ensure that she didn't end up as mad as Aster, because, well...</p>
<p>Given a chance to belong somewhere, when you didn't really belong anywhere else, who would say <em>no</em>?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Poor Aster, being so afraid to trust her own judgment.</p>
<p>This is the last chapter in this cluster, and I'm going to be focusing more on That Was Part of the Plan for the next little bit, here, so unless I get all obsessive and hyper-focused on this again, next cluster will probably be posted in a couple of months or so.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. One more thing...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, I'm a dirty liar, THIS is the last scene in this cluster, before they go back to Hogwarts, because there hasn't been nearly enough Bella&amp;Aster bonding time in this fic. (And I couldn't get the idea out of my head without writing it, so.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So," Aster announced, slamming open the door to the courtyard garden where Bella was apparently attempting to teach Evans how to apparate. "I think I'm done talking to McKinnon, now."</p>
<p>Both Bella and Evans turned to stare at her. She glowered back, dropping onto a nearby bench, then winced — she'd briefly forgotten she was still injured.</p>
<p>"Elaborate," Bella suggested, at exactly the same time Evans said, "What? Why?"</p>
<p>Possibly the worst part of being rich and well-connected was that you could get last-minute appointments with top experts in their fields, even when you'd really prefer not to go to such an appointment at all. Dorea had apparently written McKinnon right around the same time she'd written to Bella this morning, asking him to make time for her this afternoon, and he'd just gone ahead and done it, sent her an owl at noon informing her that he was squeezing her in at two. Which was a great way to completely ruin her afternoon, if she did say so herself.</p>
<p>"Because <em>engineering a moment of catharsis</em> didn't fly with him, and he just spent over an hour trying to lead me into admitting that last night was <em>bad</em> — without actually saying it himself because that would be <em>openly</em> judgy, and mind healers are only allowed to be judgy if they're <em>subtly</em> judgy — and I'm not actually as okay as I think I am, and convince me that I shouldn't cut James out of my life completely because that's just avoiding dealing with the problem, and that I should talk to Dorea before I do anything <em>rash</em> like letting you adopt me back into the House, because don't I <em>hate</em> the House? and throwing my words from like <em>three weeks ago</em> back in my face, as though that's not basically for fucking <em>ever</em>, and I can't guarantee that if I have to go back, I won't try to stab him for trying to tell me how I feel, and if I have to spend another hour of my life, ever, just <em>sitting there</em> while someone fucking <em>lurks in my head</em> and refuses to even <em>talk</em> to me — McKinnon might actually be a bigger creep than de Mort — I might legitimately go mad. And since that would completely defeat the purpose of talking to a mind healer in the first place, and actually hurting him would probably be considered the <em>opposite</em> of progress, I'm thinking I'm done. Not going back."</p>
<p>"Isn't you having regular meetings with a mind healer a condition of you, you know, <em>still going to school</em>?" Evans pointed out.</p>
<p>Aster glared at her, because, yes, it was, and yes, she'd kind of forgotten that. "Maybe I won't go back to school, either."</p>
<p>She already had her OWLs, she could take her NEWTs independently. Fuck, if Bella was serious about adopting her, she'd have the resources to go to the Continent and take the international qualification exams, if she wanted to. (They had more subjects, like Offensive and Defensive Magic — which she could probably pass an exam on <em>today</em> — and were more widely recognised than NEWTs, anyway.)</p>
<p>Bella snorted. "You do know it's not <em>McKinnon's</em> job to coddle you, either, right? Also, you're allowed to tell him to get the fuck out of your head. Unlike Thom, he's actually professionally obligated to respect that sort of request."</p>
<p>She transferred her glare to her cousin. "You do know you sound an awful lot like you're on <em>his</em> side right now, right?"</p>
<p>Bella gave her a nonchalant shrug. "You're <em>not</em> as 'okay' as you think you are, and you probably <em>should</em> admit that asking people to beat the shite out of you isn't really healthy, normal-people behaviour."</p>
<p>For a long moment, Aster was <em>completely </em>without words. "You are <em>such</em> a fucking <em>hypocrite!</em>"</p>
<p>"No, I really am 'okay' — I'm aware of my own instabilities and know how to compensate for them. I'm also aware that normal people consider about eighty...five per cent of everything I do to be disturbing or unhealthy or generally terrifying. That doesn't mean I think it's a problem, or I'm going to stop, but there's no point denying it. And besides, you're not me."</p>
<p>"I'm aware of that, thanks." Even if everyone <em>else</em> kind of seemed to think she was, or wanted to be.</p>
<p>"Oh, stop being a pouty little brat. There's a difference between letting someone hurt you or hurting yourself because you hate yourself and think you deserve it, and letting someone hurt you because <em>they </em>need to or you like the way it feels or because it's a sort of game or because the results are pretty, or you want to prove you can do the impossible, or whatever. Pain is temporary, and there's really very little magic can't heal. McKinnon knows that. He might not <em>approve</em> — actually, I'm sure he doesn't, violence and pain make him ill — but the <em>unhealthy</em> part that a mind healer would say you need to work on is hating yourself. Or, well, not hating yourself. You know what I mean."</p>
<p>Aster did <em>not</em> stop being a pouty little brat, because pouting was really the only reasonable response to what was...<em>probably</em> a good point, even if she didn't want to admit it. Well, that or changing the subject. "How the hell do you even <em>know</em> that? What mind healers think about anything, I mean. And that McKinnon's a bit wet, for that matter."</p>
<p>That little smirk said that Bella knew exactly why she was changing the subject, but she did go along with it. "Mmm, Zee spent quite a lot of time with mind healers when we were younger. Kind of hard to say whether she resents their attempting to 'fix' her more than she appreciates that they taught her how to manipulate people. Well, she absolutely <em>hated </em>the one who compelled her to act normal as a child, we killed him for her fifteenth birthday—" Of course they had. "—but the ones her parents forced her to talk to after they moved here, she's more ambivalent about them. She finds normal people and their motivations and weaknesses to be fascinating, you know. Most of what I know about mind-healing I've picked up from her. And Thom had a freeform magic project he was working on with McKinnon before I started school. We've met a few times. He's good at what he does."</p>
<p>Which was basically Bella saying, <em>you should keep talking to him</em>. "He thinks I need to talk to James — gave me some dragonshite about the end of relationships needing <em>closure</em> — and letting you adopt me back into the House is a bad idea," Aster reminded her.</p>
<p>"So? He can't actually make you do or not do anything. Probably just wants you to make an argument and try to convince him, force you to slow down and think through exactly why you want to do shite. Which doesn't actually help making decisions, but does help figuring out how normal people are going to react to shite you do, so not a completely useless exercise. <em>Don't</em> let him convince you to talk to Potter again, though."</p>
<p>"Why not?" Both Aster and Bella turned to give Evans an <em>are you mad</em> look. "Yes, he's a complete toe-rag and the world's biggest idiot, but it's not like he's going to be able to convince Aster to come back to him."</p>
<p>"No, but..." Bella trailed off, apparently trying to think how to explain that that wasn't really the concern, here, to someone who didn't get <em>feeling shite</em>, or what it really meant to be completely fucking mad.</p>
<p>"She's afraid I'll lose it and actually kill him, because that's what she would do, if she were me."</p>
<p>"No, if you were going to kill him, you would have done that instead of running away yesterday. It's more that he's what Thom would call a <em>destabilising influence</em>. Even if he's not trying to, there's a pretty solid chance that talking to him again would start tipping Aster back into Madness again, and she's much more likely to become suicidally depressed than homicidally enraged. Which should be avoided, because it's much harder to pull someone back <em>up</em> than it is to just let them kill whoever pissed them off."</p>
<p>"...Oh."</p>
<p>Well, based on the past couple of months, Aster couldn't really argue with that. No matter how much she might <em>like</em> to. "It's fine, I don't want to talk to him, he's fucking dead to me. That's about as <em>over</em> as a relationship gets."</p>
<p>Evans frowned. "I think the whole <em>closure</em> thing would be more on <em>Potter's</em> side."</p>
<p>"Well, then, it's even stupider than I thought, and I care even less."</p>
<p>"No, I mean, he's dead to you, but that doesn't mean <em>he's</em> going to let <em>you</em> go. He's probably still going to try to talk to you. Maybe you really shouldn't come back to school with me."</p>
<p>Wait— "You'd go back without me?" Aster asked, hating how shocked and whiny she sounded. Of course Evans wanted to go back to school, she had a fucking life that she <em>hadn't</em> completely ruined over the past two months. Samhain and the admission that de Mort was her sire might've damaged it, a bit, but she could still salvage it if she were to go back tonight. "You don't have to, you could stay here, too."</p>
<p>Evans actually looked like she was considering it, whether there were really any reasons she <em>couldn't</em> just...stay. Snape, maybe, but he could come, too, if he <em>had</em> to. (Ancient House was huge, it wasn't like they didn't have the beds, and she liked Evans enough to put up with living with Snape if she insisted.)</p>
<p>But before she could say anything one way or the other, Bella interrupted, smirking broadly. "Have you changed your mind about the Cause, then?"</p>
<p>Oh, right. Moving in with Bella would kind of be tantamount to <em>joining the bloody Death Eaters</em>, wouldn't it. "I could commandeer the Hogsmeade Cottage, or the townhouse in Cobh, or something."</p>
<p>"You're going to have an <em>awfully</em> hard time convincing the Old Goat to stop fighting a losing war from <em>Cobh</em>." Oh. Right. Aster had kind of forgotten about that. "Not that <em>I'm</em> complaining," Bella continued, "but—"</p>
<p>Aster groaned. Bella would just <em>love</em> it, if the war dragged on another ten years. And even if she didn't care if <em>James</em> died in a fire, she didn't want Marley and Alice and everyone to join the Aurors and promptly get themselves killed without her (or at all, if she could possibly stop it). "<em>Fine</em>, I'll go back! But, in the meanwhile, I would like to <em>not</em> talk about McKinnon or James or me being a crazy person, or anything. <em>Please</em>. I'm <em>so</em> sick of talking! Let's do something <em>fun!</em>"</p>
<p>Bella grinned. "Practice fight?"</p>
<p>"Yes, sure, <em>anything</em> but more bloody talking!" She was definitely going to get her arse handed to her, but at the moment, she found she didn't much care.</p>
<p>"Bella, did you forget Aster's injured?" Evans asked sternly, as though that made any difference to speak of.</p>
<p>"You don't really think people <em>only</em> try to kill you when you're completely uninjured, well-rested, and ready for them, do you?" Bella asked, sounding convincingly concerned that Evans might.</p>
<p>Evans herself didn't seem to realise how serious she was, though. "Generally, people don't try to kill me at all. Or Aster."</p>
<p>"That's really no reason not to learn how to defend yourself. It's better to know how and never need to than <em>not</em> know how if and when someone <em>does</em> try to kill you. Come on, let's go," she said firmly, heading back inside.</p>
<p>"Go <em>where</em>?"</p>
<p>"The training fields, obviously." They were on the opposite side of the building. She groaned, stretching her back as she rose to follow. She was probably going to end up bleeding through her bandages, and cracking open her wounds again would make them more likely to scar, but she didn't really care. "Come on, she gets annoyed when she has to come back and get you."</p>
<p>"Have <em>you</em> forgotten you're injured?"</p>
<p>"Of course not. But I would rather practice than keep talking about stupid people being stupid, and Cassie taught me a couple <em>really</em> good light curses last week."</p>
<p>The more she thought about it, the more fun this sounded, really. The last time she'd had a serious practice bout with <em>anyone</em> was Cissy, the summer before last. She'd still been coming into her power, and at a hopeless disadvantage trying to do anything polarised, but she'd managed to hold her own until Cissy managed to blow up the residual energies that always built up around a duel in her face with a fucking levitation charm. (Fucking cheater.) It had been even longer since she'd practiced with Bella, and obviously she hadn't been able to touch her. Granted, she was still definitely going to get her arse handed to her, but Bella might underestimate her enough she could get at least a <em>couple</em> hits in, which, bragging rights <em>forever</em>.</p>
<p>She ducked into the unofficial armoury for a minute to grab a spare wand as a secondary focus — Bella liked her knife, but Aster had always thought that the versatility of a second wand made up for the lack of a close-range weapon. After all, if anyone managed to get close enough she could cut them, she'd probably already lost. Unfortunately, the one she <em>used</em> to use didn't seem to work for her anymore and it would take a while to find another (assuming <em>any</em> of them were willing to work for a light-attuned witch, they were all Black heirlooms, so would've had dark owners originally). She probably shouldn't be surprised, she <em>had</em> had to get a new wand after re-dedicating herself, but whatever. She <em>had</em> a knife, of course, but it was at school, and she still preferred to at least <em>try</em> to keep Bella out of knife-range, anyway. A saber would work, she guessed, tracing the blood runes to attune it to herself down the blade without even really thinking about it until Evans had asked what she was doing.</p>
<p>She was still explaining the concept of dueling with magical weapons when they got outside. Bella had gotten side-tracked by the werewolves, who were the only other people out here, practicing with slings and lead pellets which would, in a real battle, be enchanted to not only put holes in peoples' heads, but also transfer a curse to anyone who was hit in a less-lethal spot. (Bella could find ways for even <em>non</em>-magical Death Eaters to be effective on the battlefield, which was kind of impressive, and also <em>kind of terrifying</em>.)</p>
<p>"Bella! Are we going to do this or not?" she demanded, interrupting her bantering with Greyback and...she <em>thought</em> those two might be called Hati and Skoll.</p>
<p>"And who are these lovely young ladies?" probably Hati or Skoll asked, leering at her and Evans as they approached.</p>
<p>"Remember my cousin Sirius?"</p>
<p>"The one who doesn't hate us for being werewolves, just for being Death Eaters?" the other slight, dark-haired man asked.</p>
<p>"That's the one. He's a girl now, Asteria. And this is Asphodel, Thom's daughter. And mine, as soon as I convince Old Archie that I'm adopting her, and he can't stop me, so he might as well play along. Aster, Asphodel, meet Fenrir, Hati, and Skoll."</p>
<p>"Ah, hi," Evans muttered, clearly distracted by Greyback and his penchant for never wearing shirts if he could help it. Tall, broad-shouldered, and well-muscled, if it weren't for the werewolf scars, he'd look like he belonged on the cover of one of Marlene's novels.</p>
<p>"Why are you a girl, now?" Hati asked, quickly followed by Skoll's, "<em>How</em> are you a girl, now?"</p>
<p>"Magic, and it seemed like a good idea at the time," Aster said sourly, preemptively annoyed at the thought of another round of <em>this</em> shite.</p>
<p>So she was somewhat pleased when the brothers exchanged a look and a shrug. "Magic's fucking weird," Hati noted.</p>
<p>"You lot turn into wolves on the regular, and you think it's weird I turned into a girl?"</p>
<p>Skoll sniggered. "Well, we'd <em>heard</em> of werewolves before we were turned. I've never heard of a were-girl."</p>
<p>Okay, Aster couldn't quite maintain her annoyed glare in the face of that much obvious, nonchalant silliness. "Not a <em>were</em>-girl, just a girl. No shifting back, or anything."</p>
<p>"Not even at that time of the month?"</p>
<p>"Piss off, Ass-Hat," Aster snapped, trying not to giggle at the reversing of a joke she'd made about Remus's monthly transformation several times. (She was <em>pretty sure</em> that was the nickname Bella had given him.)</p>
<p>Greyback just looked from her to Bella before noting, "The resemblance is even more obvious when you're the same sex." He sounded far more disturbed than either of the others. Aster wasn't sure whether that was because the idea of <em>two Bellas</em> was fucking terrifying, or because he was kind of a prig and found her sex-change offputting, but she didn't really care, either.</p>
<p>"<em>You</em> don't look much like de Mort, though," Skoll noted, turning to Evans. "How does he even <em>have</em> a child?"</p>
<p>"In much the usual fashion," Evans said drily, raising an eyebrow at him in mock surprise. "Or so I hear. I'm sure one of your friends can explain, if you're unfamiliar with the process."</p>
<p>"How does he have a child we didn't know about, is what my brother means." Hati was obviously torn between amusement at his brother's embarrassment — Evans was about half their age — and shock, because her delivery was pure de Mort. (Intentionally, Aster was certain, she wasn't normally quite so dry and condescending with her mockery.)</p>
<p>"I was supposed to kill her mother but my goddess told me not to, so I left it up to Fate, and Death intervened to ensure that she'd be born so that she could be used to destroy Thom should he not stop telling people he's immortal."</p>
<p>Greyback gave Bella a flat, disbelieving look. "Is that so, Sister?"</p>
<p><em>Sister?</em> Aster was definitely going to have to ask her about that one later...</p>
<p>Bella grinned. "She was raised by muggles. We just found out about her ourselves. Our own little princess raised by goatherds." She grinned, reaching out to ruffle Evans's hair, which wasn't nearly as curly as Aster's, and therefore only ended up looking a bit mussed, rather than properly tousled. This, combined by the glare she fixed on Bella, made her look more like a pouting child than she probably intended. Bella's grin only grew wider. "Metaphorically speaking. I don't know what working-class muggles actually <em>do</em>, but I'm pretty sure there are no goats involved."</p>
<p>"No, no, every lower-class, non-magical household in Europe has a goat. They're like a <em>fixture</em>. Can't properly call a house a home without one," Skoll said, with an impressively straight face.</p>
<p>Bella made a quick series of hand-gestures inviting him to go fuck a small rodent in the sign-language used by humans who couldn't properly pronounce Gobbledygook, and then, in the face of his complete incomprehension, rolled her eyes and flipped him the bird.</p>
<p>"Cheers," Hati sniggered. "So accommodating, our Hela, making rude gestures we actually recognise."</p>
<p>"The first one was <em>go fuck a rat</em>," Aster informed him.</p>
<p>"Ooh, that's a good one! How did it go?" he asked, contorting his fingers into a completely meaningless tangle.</p>
<p>"That one means you're an idiot," Evans volunteered.</p>
<p>"Are you sure she grew up with normal people?" the werewolf asked Bella. "I thought you said your weird sign-language is a goblin thing."</p>
<p>"It <em>is</em>, you're just— Look, it's not funny if I have to explain it. Aster— Why do you have a sword?"</p>
<p>"Because I don't have a back-up wand here, and if I have to try to stab you with something, I want to do it before <em>you're </em>close enough to stab <em>me</em>."</p>
<p>"Ooh, are you giving an exhibition?" the excitable Hati asked.</p>
<p>"Just practicing. Aster's good, but all resemblance aside, she's not me."</p>
<p>"Still more fun to watch than sling practice," Skoll declared, shooting a look at Greyback that Aster interpreted as begging for permission to duck out on their own training session. He glanced at Bella, who shrugged, before nodding. The brothers hurried off to tell the rest of the pack that they got to slack off for the next...however long Aster could keep getting back up.</p>
<p>"Great, love having an audience when I get my arse kicked."</p>
<p>"I still think this is a bad idea, for the record," Evans reminded them.</p>
<p>"Noted. Knock out or yield, nothing we can't heal?" Aster suggested, which were the usual terms for practice fights, but actually limited the shite Bella could use quite a lot, because she wasn't nearly as good at healing as she was at killing people.</p>
<p>She shrugged. "You can use anything you like. But yes, I'll go easy on you."</p>
<p><em>Oh, good.</em> It wasn't like she'd get much actual practice in if Bella just knocked her out every two seconds until she got bored. Which probably wouldn't take that long, but still. "Try not to fuck me up too badly, Evans has never seen a real fight before."</p>
<p>"Yes, yes, go on." Bella jerked her head toward the dueling arena — not so much a ring as an entire field surrounded by wards to ground anything short of an Unforgivable. She took a minute to cast a handful of stupidly-overpowered charms, raising scattered earthen walls and pillars to hide behind. Right. Because <em>you rarely if ever fight anyone on perfectly level ground with no obstacles outside of practice, so why practice that way?</em> — Aster thought the Aurors could probably take a lesson in practical warfare, there. They might <em>eventually</em> vary their training grounds, but according to Frank Longbottom, who'd been accepted into last summer's cohort, they'd at least <em>started</em> with little more than straight dueling (with fewer rules, obviously). Indoors, even.</p>
<p>When she got closer, she could see that Bella had also broken up the ground in the otherwise relatively clear centre of the field with randomly-placed ankle-breaking holes, ridges, hummocks and conjured rocks, because of course she had. She left the anti-apparation/disapparation wards down, though, so that was something, but also meant un-splittable broad angle spells were on the table, which they definitely hadn't been last time she'd practiced with Bella. Well, last time Bella had tested her to evaluate her progress. She'd been all of fourteen, it wasn't like she'd stood a chance of getting even a single lucky hex in.</p>
<p>Bella also managed to get out to the field before Aster, stepping out of the shadow of one of her pillars with the kind of self-assured smirk that could only come from knowing you were one of the three most powerful (mortal) mages in Britain, and definitely the best battlemage. But if Aster knew her at all, she was also genuinely pleased to be doing this. Bella <em>lived</em> for fighting. Cissy might be <em>better</em> than she was, technically speaking, in an actual dueling ring (at least before her re-dedication), but Aster enjoyed it more. She was the one who would spend all afternoon getting her arse kicked and keep getting up to go again, because the joy and freedom of <em>fighting</em> more than made up for the pain of losing. And there was something about fighting someone who was having just as much fun as you that made it better, even if you were so far out of their league that it wasn't much of an actual <em>fight</em> at all.</p>
<p>And there was a terribly disappointing lack of people around who actually <em>liked</em> fighting. Pretty much everyone took it <em>far</em> too seriously, especially when you started throwing around potentially lethal spells, which was, as far as Aster was concerned, just when it started really getting fun.</p>
<p>"Whenever you're ready, duckie," Bella called, prowling between the walls and columns, waiting for Aster to make the first move.</p>
<p>She slipped into the arena to explore the set-up herself, considering potential opening moves. It was too easy to dodge a point spell, or even a beam, in an almost urban setting like this, and while she might actually be able to pull off a light fire-storm spell, now, she kind of wanted to see if she could get Bella to underestimate her, break that out later in the fight (assuming she made it past the first exchange). If she were facing Cissy, she might pull out a multi-directional light charm or raise a fog to try to blind her, but Bella really didn't need to see to put Aster down. She could 'mask' her own power, that was one of the "basic" focusing exercises Bella had taught all of them as kids, but she didn't know how to hide her presence affecting the flow of ambient magic around herself. Something conjured above her was the obvious tactic, but it was <em>too</em> obvious, Bella would be expecting it. So a distraction, <em>and</em> something conjured. Ooh, or maybe...</p>
<p>She made sure the direct line of sight between herself and Bella was blocked before conjuring half a dozen of those little fire-birds Cissy liked to throw at her, sending them off to seek and destroy (or more likely <em>be</em> destroyed, but whatever) and creeping around to an angle where she could actually see Bella to cast a complicated little curse Burton had mentioned in Arithmancy — it tracked the path of an opponent and <em>predicted where they would be when it struck</em>, before forcing dozens of stone spikes to erupt from the ground. Not exactly the most dangerous attack, even if it did manage to catch you, and Bella had a tendency to be able to fool predictive curses <em>somehow</em> (she'd never explained, but Aster was betting being a black mage in service to <em>Chaos</em> probably helped), but it was <em>definitely</em> distracting, enough that she didn't notice the pure hydrogen conjured around her feet until it rose nearly to head-height, and one of the fire-birds managed to get close enough to set it off.</p>
<p>Bella managed to dive and roll out of the fireball (which was very predictable, a line of earthen spears appearing directly in her path), conjuring a wooden platform beneath herself to catch the spikes and letting them carry her high enough to hop to the top of one of the pillars (which was <em>not</em>, damn it). She crouched there, twiddling her fingers at Aster's semi-concealed position, which was now entirely <em>un</em>-concealed.</p>
<p><em>Bugger</em>.</p>
<p>She could hear the laughter in Bella's voice as she called down, "My turn!"</p>
<p><em>Double bugger</em>.</p>
<p>Aster ran. That was pretty much the only half-decent strategy available to her, now that Bella had the advantage of the high ground, leaping between pillars to keep her in sight and raining a barrage of cutting curses and piercing hexes down on her. She couldn't even stop and shield, because Bella varied her spells enough there was no single shield charm (at least that Aster knew of) that would block them all. A few of them managed to tag her as she ducked and rolled and darted out of the way — which, yes, <em>did</em> hurt her back, thanks very much, but fuck it — before she hit on the idea of conjuring an actual, solid shield for herself, catch at least some of the things and let her catch her breath. (She was <em>really</em> out of shape.)</p>
<p>She set it to hovering in the air at an angle to catch and/or deflect most of the incoming curses, and sent the strongest cutting curse she knew arcing across the field at knee-height, channelling it through her sword so she could cast a shield charm to deflect the one dark piercing curse that sailed straight through inert metals like the iron shell she'd conjured to ground everything else out as though they weren't there at all.</p>
<p>Well, it wasn't so much a <em>cutting</em> curse as a <em>vanishing</em> curse, taking a chunk out of everything it passed through before it lost coherency. Including the pillars Bella was using as platforms from which to toy with her. At least a handful of them collapsed with an almighty crash, which completely concealed the <em>pop</em> of her apparating right behind Aster.</p>
<p>"Clever," she noted, even as Aster felt her presence appear in the immediate magical landscape, sending almost electric prickles down her neck.</p>
<p>She yelped, spinning around just in time to catch an overhand slice with her sword — she'd tried that with her bare arm, once, used to have a nice scar across the back of it — and cast the strongest general shield charm she knew even as Bella grinned and aimed a blasting charm at her chest. At point-blank range, it sent her flying, though since Bella <em>was</em> going easy on her, she under-powered it enough it wouldn't overwhelm her shield charm and punch a hole straight through her, which was <em>something</em>. Not a great consolation, though, when she landed on her back and slid several meters before managing to pull her knees up and convert her momentum into a backward somersault, rolling into a guarded crouch to watch Bella saunter toward her all casually.</p>
<p><em>Shite!</em> She was in the middle of the field! With no cover to speak of and nowhere near enough familiarity with the field to apparate anywhere inside the arena — <em>yes</em>, she could just apparate <em>out</em>, but that was tantamount to yielding. If she wanted to keep going, her only choice was to go on the offensive.</p>
<p>...Which quickly became <em>defensive</em>, as Bella batted the first three curses in her chain directly back at her, and started throwing curses again — duck the cutting curse, bat back a heart-rotting curse (though her aim wasn't as good as Bella's, so she barely had to lean out of the way to dodge it), spin out of the way of a fire-whip — <em>now</em> she was just toying with Aster. Not that she hadn't been before, but no one used a fire-whip in <em>actual combat</em>. She let herself be hit with a waking nightmare hex — Bella wasn't very good at those, comparatively speaking, and Aster was good enough at occlumency to ignore the hallucinations at the edges of her vision — in order to block a handful of dark curses she didn't recognise with another conjured iron plate, letting herself be slowly pushed back across the field until she got close enough to one of Bella's walls to dive behind it, give herself a few seconds to cast the firestorm spell Cassie had taught her.</p>
<p>"<em>Fuck!</em>" Bella yelped — had she actually <em>gotten</em> her? She couldn't help herself peeking over the wall to see...which was, she realised almost immediately, a terrible idea, as the earth grew fluid under her hands, quickly engulfing her up to her neck.</p>
<p><em>Bugger</em>. "I yield!" she said quickly, before Bella could throw something painful at her for scorching her hair. She'd done it! She'd actually <em>tagged Bella</em> with something! The grass was still on fire in a rough circle about three meters around the spot she'd been standing when Aster cast the spell, and she couldn't stop grinning like a lunatic, despite <em>obviously</em> having lost.</p>
<p>Bella gave her a rueful smirk. "Well done, I'm sure Cissy will envy you <em>horribly</em> when you tell her you finally got a point on me. Clearly I need to stop going <em>quite</em> so easy on you. Again?"</p>
<p>Aster nodded, her better judgment currently entirely stifled beneath the rush of battle and the triumph of <em>actually cursing Bella</em>, in an <em>actual fight</em>...even if she <em>had</em> only managed it because she'd tricked her into underestimating her. It still counted!</p>
<p>"Yes! Again!"</p>
<p>(She was definitely going to get her arse handed to her, but at the moment, she found she didn't much care.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Also, this hasn't been edited yet, so all grammar and orthographic fuck-ups are mine xD</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Damn it, Evans!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I really should have realised, then, that it was only a matter of time until I came back to the fold. When I remembered how much I love being in an actual fight, how <em>absolutely right</em> it felt to be out on the training field — heart racing, body and magic pushed to their limits, everything sharper and more present because <em>you're in danger, Aster.</em> The sheer <em>joy</em> of unrestrained violence and <em>not</em> trying to be anything other than <em>dangerous</em>, no <em>pretence</em>, just— I know it's weird to consider being in a bloody, no-holds-barred (at least on my side) practice fight to be <em>relaxing</em>, but in a way it is, and I'd <em>really</em> needed that afternoon, it had been <em>years</em> since I'd really had a chance to unwind like that.</p><p>When we finally called it quits I was battered and bleeding and trembling with exhaustion, but I actually felt like I could face going back to school and seeing James; like maybe, yes, I was being silly, refusing to let Evans heal my back; like I'd finally regained a sense of equilibrium I hadn't really realised I was missing until I found it. A different perspective, from which it was easier to see that I was making everything needlessly complicated.</p><p>It took a couple more days for me to really get it, though. Days which I spent, for the most part, bearing witness to other people's lives being ruined, or else intentionally burnt to the ground, sacrificed for the sake of a clean break between one life and the next. It was a very strange time for my new little group of friends, wherein things seemed to go horribly wrong and also kind of opportunistically right for <em>them</em> in the same way they had been for me for months by that time.</p><p>Days which I also spent doing a fair bit of introspective navel-gazing, between emergencies. I really, <em>really</em> hate mind-healers, you see. If all I needed to do to get out of seeing one was stop hating <em>myself</em>, then you could damn well bet I was going to accept that reattuning your magic doesn't actually reattune your <em>personality</em> or the sum of your life's experiences and choices (ie, I was still the dark witch I'd been raised), and get the fuck over it.</p><p>Being <em>dark</em>, I realised, didn't mean that I had to support de Mort — dark equals Death Eaters, light equals Light was a dichotomy which had seemed much firmer and non-negotiable before I was encouraged to join the Light. Essentially Bella had given me permission <em>not</em> to become a Death Eater, which meant I didn't have to run as far and as fast as possible in the opposite direction in order to not feel like I was in danger of being drawn into the Cause. Well, that and Evans's stupid talking about <em>why don't the Dark do something about it, then, if they don't like Bella killing kids</em> got into my head, started making me think that maybe I <em>could</em> forge a third path for myself, rather than try and fail to live up to the moral standards set by the Light (and hate myself for it) or embrace the wonton destruction and murder that was Bella's idea of fun.</p><p>And if there was anything that afternoon out on the training field demonstrated (other than that I am an idiot with no awareness of my physical limits, and a habit of conveniently forgetting how much being injured actually <em>hurts</em> when the adrenaline fades), it was that I was <em>so</em> much happier when I wasn't fighting tooth and nail against both nature and nurture, it wasn't even funny.</p><hr/><p>Friday morning saw the girls back at school, ignoring sidelong stares from their housemates as Evans dragged Aster to the far end of the Ravenclaw table to eat with Snape. She was doing a very good job of pretending she didn't even notice the curious watchers. Aster, on the other hand, was too sore to care if anyone knew where they'd disappeared off to and why, or not. Not just her back, though that was still terribly stiff and tender — she'd been feeling less shite enough about herself she'd caved and let Evans (mostly) heal her when she'd finally stopped moving and realised exactly how much worse she'd made it running and twisting and being thrown into the ground like a bloody idiot — but also every single muscle in her legs (too much running and crouching after too long not doing <em>anything</em> really) and her left wrist and shoulder especially (the sword was, in hindsight, perhaps a <em>bad</em> choice), and a scattering of bruises and scrapes and similarly tender, recently-healed spots where there had been slashes and burns on her arms and chest. And one tiny little cut through her right eyebrow which she purposefully hadn't healed, because she thought it would look badass if it left a scar. (Evans thought this was ridiculous.)</p><p>Cassie Lovegood plonked herself down across from them, throwing an arm around Snape, who shrugged her off with a disgusted glare Aster was quickly coming to recognise as meaning, <em>how can you possibly be this conscious, this early in the day?</em> Cassie gave him a sunny, Lovegood grin. "Love you, too, Sev. Hey, Lily. Black. You look like shite."</p><p>"I <em>feel</em> like shite, Cassie. Next time I think running around playing war games with Bella sounds like fun, remind me that's a bad idea?"</p><p>Evans snorted. "I did. At least twice. You said, <em>noted</em>, and ran off to do it anyway."</p><p>"Yeah, well, more forcefully. Like, maybe stun me or something."</p><p>That actually got a tiny half-smirk from Snape, probably thinking that he'd like to volunteer to do the stunning, if (when) it became necessary. Cassie, though, frowned at her. "Well, I was going to ask where you two disappeared off to, but I guess that answers that, doesn't it. Dare I ask <em>why</em> you were playing games with your evil, murderous cousin? And does this have something to do with the rumours I've been hearing that Lily is secretly a Death Eater spy?"</p><p>"Who's saying I'm a spy?" Evans demanded, sounding rather affronted about it, and conveniently saving Aster from having to explain that Bella was still her favourite cousin, even if she was still completely evil. And also still didn't know the meaning of the word mercy. (<em>Ow.</em>)</p><p>Cassie shrugged. "People? Mostly your roommates. The baby Death Eaters started dropping hints about you being one of them, but I'm pretty sure Tina was the one who decided that must mean you're a spy."</p><p>Snape cast an anti-eavesdropping spell before elaborating, with the air of a man who wanted nothing to do with any part of this subject, and yet was bound to explain because he was the only one who could. "Evan talked to Mulciber about you and de Mort, warning him off of us, probably thought he was being helpful. But Mulciber talked to Wilkes, who couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it, so at least ninety-five per cent of Slytherin knows."</p><p>"Well, Ravenclaw doesn't. What about you and de Mort?"</p><p>"Er..."</p><p>Evans hesitated to explain, so Aster did it for her. "He's her sire, it's this whole thing."</p><p>"...I...<em>see</em>. So...?"</p><p>"No, Cassie, I'm not joining the bloody Death Eaters."</p><p>"She is letting Bella adopt her, though."</p><p>"What? <em>Why</em>?"</p><p>"Not surprised," Snape muttered, clearly wondering how the hell it could possibly be a surprise to anyone. Because if Cassie had ever met Bella, it would have been at some dull Society thing, and Bella would have been on her best behaviour, that was how. Also, Aster was about ninety-nine per cent certain that Cassie didn't know exactly how dark Evans could be when she wasn't censoring herself. Aster really couldn't imagine Cassie would be willing to speak to her, let alone blow off steam with her out in the Forest if she did. Granted, Cassie was one of the more tolerant light people around, super dedicated to her <em>no using dark magic</em> rule, but not all <em>holier than thou</em> about it. Aster just couldn't see her being okay socialising with someone who didn't actually <em>mind</em> that Bella killed innocent children on occasion, just knew she was supposed to and (usually) remembered to act accordingly.</p><p>"It seemed like a good idea at the time?" Evans offered, which was just—</p><p>"Hey, that's my line!" Well, Bella's, but.</p><p>"We can talk about it later, Cassie," Evans said, dismissing Aster's objection without dignifying it with a response. "Right now, we should talk about what we're doing about Potions."</p><p>Snape gave her an exasperated sigh. "What <em>about</em> Potions?"</p><p>"Aster can't work with the king of the toe-rags anymore."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>"Because he broke a promise to her and thereby kind of broke <em>her</em>, which is why we weren't here yesterday. He's dead to her, and not allowed to talk to her on pain of me poisoning him. And also, because I said so."</p><p>"You'd better not be asking <em>me</em> to work with him instead," Snape said, glaring at her over his coffee mug.</p><p>"Well, he thinks I'm an evil necromancer, so yes, it's probably better if you work with him than if I do."</p><p>"I'm not sure <em>that</em> logic follows. In fact, if he thinks you're an evil necromancer, that's even <em>more</em> reason for you to work with him. He won't be hitting on you, and if he gets too annoying, you can threaten to sic Cerberus on him or something, and he'll actually believe you and shut up."</p><p>"But <em>Sev...</em>"</p><p>"No, I'll work with Black, we have a system."</p><p>"You have a <em>system?</em>"</p><p>"Yes, as of Monday. I do all the brewing, she touches nothing and writes the lab report. Works spectacularly." He said that sarcastically, but it actually had worked out well. Snape's penmanship was borderline illegible, and she <em>did</em> know all the theory shite she was supposed to, she just didn't have the patience to actually <em>brew</em> potions. "Potter can't be trusted not to touch anything. In fact, he hates me and knows <em>I</em> can't kill him by looking at him funny so he'd probably purposefully bugger up any potion on which we might have the misfortune to collaborate. Therefore, you should work with him."</p><p>Before Evans could come up with a response to such a supremely logical argument (other than pouting at him and whining, <em>but, Se-ev, he's such an </em>arse<em>!</em>), the post arrived, thoroughly distracting her.</p><p>"Is that from Reggie?" Aster knew it was, she recognised his handwriting. "What's it say?"</p><p>"That he's sorry he's been an arse to me for the past four years...in about ten times as many words. Your brother's a pretentious git, you know that?"</p><p>"Er...yeah," she agreed absently, skimming through the letter which had been dropped on her own plate. Dorea, it seemed, was somewhat concerned about her. Surprise, surprise. Also, very upset about Bella asking Arcturus to remove Aster from her care. Also, not surprising. It <em>was</em> kind of surprising that she was asking Aster whether she wanted the Potters to carry out the threat she'd made back in August to drag Arcturus over the coals in front of the Wizengamot, or if this should just be treated as Bella being petulant. Mostly because, well, the latter, <em>obviously</em>. At least, she thought it was obvious?</p><p>Her birthday was literally in two weeks, anyway, Bella and Arcturus's opinions about where she ought to sleep and who she ought to associate with were functionally irrelevant at this point even by outsiders' standards. Also, funny as it might be to see the look on her face if Aster were to testify before their peers that Walburga had used the Cruciatus on her, she didn't actually think Wally deserved to spend the next fifty years in Azkaban (or however long it took for her to die) just for treating Aster like shite as a kid. (<em>Ten</em> years, maybe, but.) There <em>were</em> other things Walburga (and the entire House) should be condemned for — they might be able to get away with killing the occasional muggle, but subsuming their souls was a far more heinous act in the eyes of the public — but that included Aster, so obviously she wasn't going to go telling anyone about those. Besides, she really, <em>really</em> couldn't stay with the Potters over hols anymore.</p><p>She should probably explain that to Dorea, she realised.</p><p>She'd assumed Bella would have, but then, it was entirely possible Dorea hadn't believed her. So it would probably be necessary for Aster to explain that Bella might be being a bit...overly antagonistic about it (Bella was overly antagonistic about pretty much everything), but she wasn't <em>really</em> over-reacting. That Aster actually agreed that she really shouldn't ever talk to James again — that even just <em>seeing</em> him, across the common room or when they'd come into the Hall for breakfast just now, made her remember how worthless he thought she was, and that was...not good. She hadn't really thought about how she was going to deal with Potions, maybe skip today, and go beg Slughorn to let her switch sections at his office hour? (Though just taking notes on whatever Snape did for the rest of the year and pretending that she had a mysterious blind spot two feet to Evans's left worked too.)</p><p>She <em>had</em> thought about what she should tell Remus about tomorrow night, probably far too much — started and burned about four different letters now, since every time she'd seen him since she'd gotten back last night, he'd been with James... He had to understand, right, that it wasn't about <em>him</em>, she'd <em>love</em> to go out to the Shack and pal around with <em>Moony</em>, it was just...<em>James</em>. Even if he was Prongs, he was still James.</p><p>"Alright, Sev?" Cassie asked, dragging Aster away from her thoughts, which was probably for the best. He had a letter of his own in his hand, the seal... Was that <em>Ministry</em> purple?</p><p>"Yes, of course, it's nothing," he said (entirely unconvincingly), tucking the letter into a pocket. "Come on, we should go tell Slughorn Lily's been overcome by an intense desire to work with Potter before everyone else shows up for class."</p><p>"Don't you <em>dare</em> put it like that!" Lily snapped, giggling.</p><p>"If you fake a bit of glassy-eyed fascination, I can probably drop enough hints to make him suspect Potter used a love potion on you. In fact, do that, it'll be hilarious."</p><p>"Seconded," Aster noted absently, drifting along behind the two of them as they headed out toward the stairs. Not that it <em>wouldn't</em> be funny if Slughorn and McG started thinking James (or more likely, Pete) was brewing illicit love potions — the staring would probably really creep him out, too, because <em>help, the evil</em> <em>necromancer is paying too much attention to me</em> — she was just distracted, wondering who at the Ministry was writing to Snape, and why he didn't want them to know about it.</p><p>In deference to the fact that they now had a truce, she decided to just annoy him until he told her, rather than pick his pocket and read the letter. And wouldn't you know it, there was a nice long simmering period in the middle of the memory-enhancing elixir they were brewing today. (The best part about Slughorn's NEWT class was that they actually made <em>useful</em> things. Things which could be sold to underclassmen Ravenclaws for pocket money in the absence of access to the Family Vault...or just generally being poor, she'd be shocked if Snape and Evans hadn't been doing the same for years.)</p><p>"So," she began conversationally. "That letter, at breakfast..."</p><p>"Yes, you did seem rather preoccupied. Family drama, I presume?"</p><p>"No more than usual. So, yes. But I didn't mean <em>my</em> letter. <em>You</em> tried to pretend it wasn't important, but if it really weren't important, you wouldn't have been so quick to hide it. And since I can't think of anything important the Ministry might be writing to you about, you have my attention."</p><p>"Huzzah."</p><p>Aster frowned at him, then reached over and poked him in the temple. "Tell me!"</p><p>"It's none of your business, Black," he snapped, swatting her hand away.</p><p><em>You have </em>no <em>idea how annoying I can be, Snape,</em> she thought loudly, before she began projecting a memory of a particularly bad recording of Scotland the Brave at him, <em>very </em>pointedly. Emphasis on the bagpipes.</p><p>He winced, throwing up occlumency barriers to keep his cheating mind mage awareness contained. "I hate you, Black. Why on <em>Earth</em> would you think that <em>annoying me</em> would make me more willing to share something personal with you?"</p><p>"Er...because I refrained from just stealing the letter and reading it myself?"</p><p>"Piss off."</p><p>"Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell—" Her voice cut off suddenly under a silent silencing jinx. She broke it almost instantly, of course, but, "Hey! That was rude!"</p><p>"How are you such a <em>child</em>?"</p><p>"I'm not, it's the other way around. See, children are like me, and the rest of the nobles, really, because they're all annoyingly self-absorbed little shites who think they're entitled to whatever they want, right fucking now. Most of them are just forced to grow out of it when they're faced with the reality that <em>they</em> can't have whatever they want, whenever they want it. <em>I, </em>however, am extremely accustomed to getting what I want, even if I must occasionally be terribly annoying in order to get it, so tell me." She grinned at the sour <em>that sounds all too plausible</em> look on his face. "Tell me, tell me, tell me—"</p><p>"Well, you can't have this. And if you keep annoying me about it, I'll ask Slughorn to switch us back. He likes me better than you, so."</p><p>"But Evans doesn't want me to have to talk to Potter, and even if she lets you stick me back with him, I can get Bella to write and ask Slughorn to let me switch sections or something, because she <em>really</em> doesn't want me to talk to Potter, <em>so</em>."</p><p>Snape glared at her for about half a second, then tore a scrap of paper out of his notebook to scribble, <em>Lily, your new pet is annoying me, you can have it back, I'll work with Potter.</em></p><p>Which <em>might</em> have worked, actually, except, "Great, he can do the annoying <em>for</em> me, then." Because she was <em>pretty sure</em> Snape found James to be far more irritating than Aster, when she wasn't actively <em>trying</em> to annoy him. Evans certainly hated him more — always had, really.</p><p>"That is a risk I am willing to take," he said drily, turning to pass his note to Evans, and coincidentally giving Aster an excellent opportunity to access his left pocket.</p><p>That <em>was</em> Ministry purple, she immediately discovered, the crest pressed into it...the Department of Law Enforcement? Well, curiouser and curiouser. She waved the letter in his face when he turned back around, just because it amused her.</p><p>"I— You— Give that back!" he shouted, gaining the attention of most of the class.</p><p>Since Slughorn wasn't there to intervene — must've stepped out to the loo, or to satisfy a sudden pineapple craving or something — she just gave him a smug smirk. "I told you stealing it was an option."</p><p>"Lily!"</p><p>"Aster, give back the letter, and stop antagonising Sev."</p><p>"But—"</p><p>Evans's exasperated amusement immediately transformed into extreme annoyance. "<em>Now</em>."</p><p>Aster held her furious glare for a second or two before abruptly deciding <em>fine</em>, sating her curiosity wasn't worth having to share a dorm with an Evans who was genuinely miffed with her. She pouted, but let the Slytherin snatch his letter back out of her hand, entirely unread. "You're no fun, Evans," she informed her, sinking back to her stool, the very picture of dejected sulking, and after a few minutes, the rest of the class turned back to their own conversations.</p><p>She gave it another minute to ensure they'd moved on, then scribbled a note to her lab partner. <em><strong>What does the DLE want with you?</strong></em></p><p>
  <em> <strong>Piss. Off.</strong> </em>
</p><p><em><strong>No, seriously, you're not in some kind of trouble, are you?</strong></em> She added a little frowny face, then went back and underlined <em>seriously</em>. Because she actually was slightly concerned. The DLE was not to be fucked about with, especially by people who had as little social leverage and were into as much sketchy shite as Snape (and Evans, until last weekend).</p><p>Snape raised an inscrutable eyebrow at her, then after a minute, <em><strong>No.</strong></em></p><p>
  <em> <strong>Are you lying to me?</strong> </em>
</p><p><em><strong>I wouldn't tell you if I were.</strong></em> He wrote back immediately.</p><p><em><strong>You would if you weren't. Why is the DL</strong></em>—</p><p>Snape snatched the page back before she could finish reiterating her question. <em><strong>It's none of your business, Black. </strong></em><em><strong>None</strong></em><em><strong>.</strong></em></p><p>It was. It <em>definitely</em> was. It just took Aster a moment to figure out exactly why she thought that. <em><strong>You are Evans's business. Evans is my business. By the transitive property of nosiness, it's totally my business. So, spill.</strong></em></p><p>Snape glared at her for another moment, but (surprisingly) caved, jotting down a few short sentences in explanation.</p><p>
  <em> <strong>My father died. On Samhain. Muggles ruled it natural causes. Ministry poked their noses in because there was an "unusual fluctuation in the ambient magics of the area" and someone apparently thought it looked like he'd been Avada'd. They've brought my mother in for questioning, and want to speak to me this weekend.</strong> </em>
</p><p>That...wasn't good. That wasn't good <em>at all</em>. <em><strong>Oh. Fuck.</strong></em></p><p>Snape's brow creased in the smallest of frowns. <em><strong>No great loss.</strong></em></p><p>
  <em> <strong>No, I meant the investigation. Did they say anything else?</strong> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <strong>No, but I was here, and Mother couldn't cast an Unforgivable to save her life.</strong> </em>
</p><p>
  <em> <strong>And if they had any evidence, you wouldn't have gotten a letter, you'd've gotten an Auror to escort you down to London. But "unusual fluctuation in ambient magic" is code for "we think someone was doing high magic". And it was Samhain. And someone died. So you can see why there's cause for concern.</strong> </em>
</p><p>Snape froze. Apparently he hadn't considered <em>that</em>. Before he came up with a response, their timer went off, the potion demanding their attention until the end of the period. (Well, Snape's attention, at least.) He packed up his things in equal silence, leading Aster to a store-room where he'd apparently asked Evans to wait for them. (Silently. Legilimency was <em>so</em> cheating.)</p><p>"Sev? What's wrong?"</p><p>He cast half a dozen anti-eavesdropping charms before answering. Aster added a couple as well, because Snape might be paranoid, but he wasn't Noble and Most Ancient House paranoid, and when asking someone whether they might have happened to kill your father while possessed by Persephone, there was no such thing as <em>too</em> paranoid. "I don't know, Lily. Did you per chance murder my father a few nights ago and neglect to mention it?"</p><p>Lily frowned. "You seem far less pleased than I expected, but yes. Well, Persephone snuffed him out, but." She shrugged. "I wanted it to be a surprise."</p><p>"Oh, I'm surprised, alright! I'm so incredibly fucking sur— Lily! What were you <em>thinking</em>?!"</p><p>"Well, <em>I</em> was thinking that the view of Earth from the Moon is awesome. <em>She</em> was thinking she'd do something nice for me by getting rid of the one person I've been wanting to murder since we were <em>nine</em>. Apparently it was little matter whether he died now or in a few years, so."</p><p>Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as though this would help mitigate...reality. Which it didn't, of course.</p><p>"Did you and/or Kore kill anyone else while she was possessing you?" Aster asked.</p><p>"Er...half a dozen or so people at Saint Mungo's, and she did <em>something</em> for another necromancer, I don't know what."</p><p>Aster bit her lip, considering. "Right, okay, that's...probably fine."</p><p>"Why? What's probably fine?"</p><p>"If there were any evidence that you in particular were involved, the Aurors would already have traced you. The hospital — mostly people lingering right on the edge of death, right?" She nodded. "Yeah, well, that's easy enough to chalk up to someone doing a <em>release these poor sufferers from their mortal torment</em> sort of ritual — not the sort of thing people like to talk about, but it does happen pretty regularly, and no one looks too closely into it, because who's it hurting? And whatever she did for someone else is on <em>their</em> head, obviously you wouldn't have a motive, so assuming she cleaned up after you, which she probably did, since, again, no Aurors here, there at least won't be a whole <em>pattern</em> of suspicious Samhain deaths that all have links to you."</p><p>In response to Evans's very obvious confusion, Snape handed her the letter. Reading it over her shoulder confirmed that he'd mentioned all the relevant details. "<em>Unusual fluctuation in ambient magic </em>is apparently an official euphemism for <em>we detected someone doing high magic.</em>"</p><p>"Oh. Fuck. I didn't realise they would... But they don't know it was me, and Sev clearly has an alibi, so..."</p><p>"Mother doesn't."</p><p>"Your mother's almost as bad as your father."</p><p>"Granted. If you'd killed her, too, I wouldn't complain. But Azkaban is a fate <em>worse</em> than death, Lily. Being sent there for a crime you <em>didn't commit...</em>"</p><p>"That's less problematic than you might think," Aster volunteered. She'd mostly been concerned that there was a trail of corpses out there pointing directly at Evans. "The Aurors will use a truth potion on her, or maybe legilimency, shouldn't be a problem for her to prove she had nothing to do with it, doesn't know any other mages who might've wanted him dead."</p><p>"Except me," Snape pointed out. Aster winced. Yeah, that was probably why they were asking him to come in for questioning.</p><p>"But you have an alibi," Evans reminded him (again).</p><p>"And it's not super likely that they'll think Bat-boy really had anything to do with it, for that reason. They <em>will</em>, however, ask him whether he knows anyone else who might have a reason to want his old man dead."</p><p>"And I'll tell them <em>no</em>, end of story. It's hardly as though <em>muggle</em> Tobias Snape was well-known in magical circles. They shouldn't be surprised. And yes, before you say it, I know they'll probably use a truth serum on me, but I can resist the urge to volunteer information, and—"</p><p>"And if you're smart, you won't let it get that far. Yes, it's difficult to question someone precisely enough to hem them in and get a straight answer if they volunteer nothing, but it's not <em>impossible</em>, and if they have an evasive mind mage on their hands, they're going to think there's a reason. Plus, even if you do manage to convince them you have no idea who might've wanted your father dead, being evasive about it just gives them more incentive to look into your associates, see if there's anyone who might've wanted him dead on your behalf."</p><p>"Yes, well, all of my 'associates' as you put it, were also at the Revel, so far as anyone knows."</p><p>"Yes, but we really don't want anyone looking too closely or asking questions about Evans at all, even if they would eventually dismiss her as a suspect — which they wouldn't, because they'd likely catch wind of 'rumours' that she's a necromancer, either from Potter or Dumbledore, which kind of throws out <em>directly communing with Death</em> as a bloody alibi, and would <em>also</em> result in <em>her</em> being dragged in for questioning."</p><p>Evans glared at her. "I hope there's a <em>but</em> after all that. Or some kind of suggestion about what we should do, and not just <em>oh, fuck, we're completely fucked, better start making plans to run away to France</em>."</p><p>Aster gave her a blinding grin. "Of course there is. It's not standard practice to use a truth serum just to question a person of interest, and Veritors' Charms are easier to fool with occlumency." She turned back to Snape. "As long as they think you're cooperating, openly and without reservation, they won't use the Veritaserum they probably spent the last three days getting permission to use, just in case. So, only tell them true things, and don't make them drag every word out of you like Pete answering a question in Transfiguration, and when they ask you whether you can think of anyone who might have reason to want your father dead, give them Zorian Prince's name."</p><p>"...Zorian Prince?" Snape repeated skeptically. "I've never even spoken to him, you realise."</p><p>"You don't need to have. Make it sound like you have no idea — don't <em>say</em> it, but, you know, <em>imply</em> it — tone and presentation — and you know this isn't very likely, but <em>maybe</em>, there's an outside chance because, see, rumour has it he might be associated with the Death Eaters — he is, by the way, if you didn't know consider this me starting that rumour right now — and Eileen has been disowned for <em>ages</em>, but if he happened to have tracked her down— Some of your fellow Slytherins are aware that Eileen Prince is your mother, so it's not <em>impossible </em>that it might've gotten back to him who she married, and how big a prick he was, it's not <em>entirely</em> out of the question he would've thought it was a good idea if that muggle scum who ruined his sister and/or her life were to turn up dead. Potentially.</p><p>"Comes off as <em>trying</em> to help, no matter how much you hated the old bastard — don't try to hide that, don't even try to hide that you might've fantasized about him dying, but make it clear that you certainly didn't <em>do</em> anything about it, even though you <em>definitely could have</em>, compelling a muggle drunk to walk in front of a train is pretty fucking easy, and far less detectable than...practically anything, you certainly wouldn't have needed to resort to high ritual — and how slim a lead it might be, convinces them you haven't the faintest idea so questioning you again would be completely pointless, and gets them to lay off you, and by extension Evans."</p><p>"What about Zorian Prince?" Evans asked, sounding vaguely amused.</p><p>"He tells them he has no bloody idea what they're talking about, and they call it a dead end? If they can't find a lead, they'll have to close the case, weird ambient magic fluctuations or no. Besides, he's just a muggle, they won't try too hard after they've at least made a visible effort for their superiors. We just need to make sure that initial effort doesn't actually turn anything up." She shrugged lightly. "So. Do you think you can pull it off?"</p><p>He gave her a grim nod. "It's hardly as though I have much of a choice, is it."</p><p>Aster hesitated, because that was <em>hardly</em> the right attitude. <em>She</em> could certainly manage the part. Evans probably could, too. But Snape was...somewhat less experienced when it came to <em>not acting suspicious</em>. Hence her advising him not to try to conceal his hatred for his father, but still... "Evans, maybe also write to Bella and be ready to run away to France, just in case."</p><p>"Oh, piss off, Black."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Werewolf Woes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In another world, another life — one where I never became Asteria, perhaps — the story would have ended, already. I would have returned to James with my tail tucked firmly between my legs, and they — James, the Marauders, the Light — with the excuse that I was clearly mad and not responsible for my betrayal, would have taken me back.</p><p>I imagine that it would have been...hard, those first few months. But we would have gone out of our way to become a family again, like we were in fourth year, when the Marauders were my brothers in all but blood. We would have flown together and done our homework together, bitched about Snape and how the very existence of the slimy little greaseball was offensive together.</p><p>I would have been with them for the November moon, which... Well, I'd <em>like</em> to think that it would have made a difference, if I'd been there to run interference from the start. It could have been the beginning of a different, wilder and more reckless Marauder tradition, sneaking out of the Shack and roaming the forest. It would have been <em>exciting</em>, running around with a werewolf unrestrained, the only thing stopping him from running off to attack someone being my teeth and James's prongs. Terrifying, yes, and horribly dangerous, but we were young and fearless, with the unshakeable confidence of youth on our side.</p><p>But this isn't that life, and we don't live in that world. As things turned out... Well, Remus considers the full moon of November, Nineteen Seventy-Six to be an unmitigated disaster, one of the lowest points in his entire life. Which, given that he's a bloody werewolf, and spent <em>years</em> living in abject poverty, exiled from human society, wanted by the British Ministry for a capital crime, unable to contact his family or friends lest his whereabouts might have become known, I think that's saying quite a lot.</p><p>Granted, this night did play an instrumental role in the development of that sequence of events, it might be a pivotal moment on par with being bitten by Fenrir in the first place. But when he says it's one of his lowest points, he's not talking about that. He's talking about the fact that he — that <em>Moony</em> — became, for the first time, the monster Remus had always secretly feared that he was. That he became the pivotal moment in <em>someone else's</em> life, dragging her into the same hell as himself.</p><p>And the most annoying thing about it is, he <em>still</em> doesn't blame James! (Not for <em>this</em> at least.) It's like he thinks he should have been able to stop himself, as though he would be the first werewolf in the history of ever to master the Curse through sheer force of will, honestly.</p><p>Remus, if you're reading this, know that <em>no one </em>blames <em>you</em>. <em>You</em> were as much a victim of this confluence of <em>idiocy</em> as anyone.</p><hr/><p>"Siri! Sirius!" Aster startled at the sound of Pete's voice on the other side of the curtain-wall. She'd been reading one of the old Ciardha Monroe books (she'd mentioned them to Evans, and so been reminded that they existed, and she had nothing better to do tonight) and trying to pretend that the full moon held no significance whatsoever. She hadn't really expected it to work, but the last time she'd read these, she'd been maybe ten? And she knew a hell of a lot more about cursebreaking, now, so they'd actually somehow managed to become <em>more</em> engaging and entertaining. "Marley! Where's Siri?!"</p><p>"Pete? How did you get up here?" <em>Why</em> was he up here, was the better question. <em>He</em>, unlike Aster, <em>did</em> have someplace better to be. Well, more important at least.</p><p>"THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT MARLENE WHERE IS SIRIUS?!" he shouted, sounding borderline hysterical.</p><p>She poked her head out of the door-flap to see he looked just as overwrought as he sounded. "In here, Pete," she said, grabbing him and yanking him into the partitioned space. "What's wrong?"</p><p>"It's— It's Remus. <em>Moony</em>," he said, horror and fear and disbelief mingling in his voice, the same mix of emotions currently draining all the blood from Aster's face, turning her stomach and—</p><p>"What. Happened?" she bit out. There were only two options, really, that could make Pete sound like that. Either Moony had ripped Prongs's throat out — no wolf would attack a stag alone in the wild, but Prongs was kind of shite at things like <em>instinctively knowing how to defend himself</em> — or he'd <em>escaped</em>.</p><p>Rather than answer, Pete's eyes flicked over to Evans, doing something boring over at her desk. Potions homework, she thought, she hadn't checked. The prefect raised an eyebrow at him, her expression entirely unreadable.</p><p>"She knows, Pete!" At least, Aster was pretty sure Evans knew that Moony was the werewolf who had almost killed Snape. She hadn't told her, but it wasn't <em>terribly</em> difficult to put it together, if you <em>knew</em> that there was a werewolf around, in the school, somewhere, who it might be.</p><p>And even if she <em>didn't</em> already know, it was hardly important, at the moment.</p><p>"He— He got out— Got past us, you know, the ward gate, and— Prongs couldn't follow him, not in the tunnel, he wouldn't fit, and if he changed <em>back</em>— So he's trying to break out of the Shack, sent me to find you and Dumbledore, and— We <em>need</em> to find him, Siri— Aster, I mean! Before he hurts someone!"</p><p>And they needed <em>her</em> to find him, because she was the only person they knew who could track a werewolf by scent, and they hadn't thought to get a fur-sample or something to use as a focus for a tracking charm, because there hadn't been any risk of Moony getting <em>out</em> before James went and put that <em>stupid</em> ward-gate in. And then they needed to be able to <em>capture</em> him, <em>somehow</em>, and that was going to be a huge fucking problem, because she might be able to fight him to a stand-still, <em>maybe</em> — Moony was bigger than her, and much more vicious than Remus, but she was more stubborn — but that wasn't going to put him <em>down</em> unless she completely tore him apart, and he'd do at <em>least</em> as much damage to her in the process. And werewolf wounds were cursed, they'd still be there when she shifted back and resisted healing, so that <em>might</em> actually kill her. Bad fucking plan.</p><p>And even if she <em>did</em> manage to stop him running off to attack any humans, they'd still need someone to cast something to subdue him, and they were resistant to magic, so just using a sleeping charm or something wouldn't do it. Pretty much <em>all</em> the light spells she knew with the stopping power to disable a werewolf would cause major, lasting harm to the target. Which generally wasn't a problem, since if the <em>Aurors</em> were trying to take down a werewolf, they wouldn't <em>care</em> if it were maimed or killed. They <em>could</em> try something environmental, make a trap of some sort, but Moony was <em>smart</em>, there was no guarantee that he'd wouldn't avoid it, and that would take time, anyway, and probably a whole team to get it set up and get him in the right spot to spring it. So that wouldn't work <em>either</em>.</p><p>Which just left...</p><p>"Evans, can you cast the Imperius?" she asked, digging her dueling knife and training gear out of her trunk. Hopefully she wouldn't need to use it, she wasn't <em>planning</em> on being anywhere near Moony in human shape — Bella might be able to get away with running with Greyback's pack as a human, but Aster wasn't Bella — but if she <em>did</em> have to fight him with magic, she'd need every advantage she could get. If they could use that to knock him out, or even just get him somewhere no one would hear him howling, she could sink him up to his neck in a couple tonnes of dirt like Bella had done to her the other day, completely immobilise him.</p><p>Evans didn't answer, though Pete made an awkward choking, squeaking noise. Like he couldn't decide between <em>gak</em> and <em>eep</em>. "Evans!" She looked up to see Evans was looking at Pete in much the same way Pete had looked at Evans before saying anything about Remus. Oh, right. "It's only Unforgivable to use Unforgivables on humans. Werewolves don't count." <em>Especially </em>not in wolf-form.</p><p>"Well, that's fucking stupid..."</p><p>"Evans! Can you do it?!"</p><p>Evans bit her lip. "I don't know, I've never tried it! I <em>might</em> be able to, but—"</p><p>"No, this is not the time to try to figure it out on the fly. Go tell Cissy there's a rogue werewolf in Hogsmeade and convince her to get her arse on a broom and come Imperius him for me. I'll track him, she can track <em>me</em>—" She popped into Padfoot's form and yanked a few hairs from the tip of her tail, then popped back to tie them together with a human hair and hand the whole thing to Evans — she wasn't sure whether she could be tracked as Padfoot without a Padfoot focus, best not leave it to chance. "—and if all goes well, no one dies." If all went <em>really</em> well, no one would even be bitten and turned, but when had Remus Lupin's luck <em>ever</em> been that good?</p><p>"Pete, do <em>not</em> tell Dumbledore or McGee or <em>anyone</em>, because they <em>will</em> kill Moony to stop him if he gets anywhere near a human."</p><p>"But James said—"</p><p>"I don't care what James told you to do, <em>James</em> is the fucking idiot who went and poked a hole in the thrice-cursed wards for his own fucking <em>convenience</em>! Evans..." Well, she wanted to say <em>call Bella</em>, not because she really thought they <em>needed</em> her to take care of Remus, but just because Aster would feel a hell of a lot better if she weren't the most competent person here right now, and also, she was only about eighty per cent certain that Imperiusing a transformed werewolf would stop him. Of course, Bella might be out with her own werewolves at the moment, but— Fuck it, couldn't hurt. "Tell her to call Bella, first. He'll probably be somewhere in the Forest or Hogsmeade, I doubt there's anyone out on the grounds to hunt on a night like tonight." It was raining, cold and miserable, which was probably the only bit of good luck they were going to have tonight — everyone sane would be inside, less opportunity for Moony to attack someone.</p><p>Evans nodded, already heading for the door. "Anything else?"</p><p>"Take Pete with you. Keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."</p><p>"Easier said than done," she grumbled, grabbing him and dragging him out of their little false-walled room with her. "Come on, Peter."</p><p>Aster followed maybe thirty seconds behind, taking the time to throw on one of Bella's reinforced, enchanted corsets and the cingulum she almost <em>never</em> used — the heavy, weighted, skirt-like leather segments spelled to protect her legs in much the same way the corset did her torso (all of her dueling-style over-robes, like the one she'd worn to Evans's house, were purely decorative, not properly enchanted) — over the dueling trousers and blouse she'd been wearing all day (because it was <em>Saturday</em>, why shouldn't she be comfortable while lazing around feeling sorry for herself and the fact that she had nothing on tonight?) and double check her wand holster and the sheath for her dueling knife — nothing worse than having them come loose in the middle of a fight. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging on the inside of the open wardrobe door as she moved to leave the room, hard-eyed and grim-faced and dressed for battle; almost startled at how much she looked like Bella; and turned on her heel to grab a rain-repelling hat and cloak to maybe try to hide that resemblance, just slightly.</p><p>...And then cast an attention-deflecting charm on top of it all, just in case. She really didn't have time to waste arguing with anyone who tried to stop her before she even left the bloody Tower, wanting to know <em>why</em> she was dressed like a bloody gladiator. (Because given the option of attempting to subdue a fucking lion or a thrice-cursed werewolf, she might take the lion, honestly. At least <em>lion</em> bites could be <em>healed</em>...)</p><p>She was glad she'd thought to grab the cloak as soon as she stepped out of the Castle, it was bloody well pissing down, and fucking <em>cold</em>. She had to focus extra hard to keep the extra clothing with her when she transformed, especially since it was enchanted, but even disregarding the protective spells, it would be worth it to be able to warm up as soon as she changed back.</p><p>Of course, it didn't stop frigid water seeping into her fur in the meanwhile, or icy mud squishing up between her toe-pads. The only thing she could do about <em>that</em> was <em>run</em>, keep herself warm by moving. She raced across the open ground to the Whomping Willow — Moony had been confined to the tunnel to that point — and caught his scent, the trail leading almost immediately into the Forest. It was <em>marginally</em> less wet under the trees, though most of them had already lost all of their leaves, so <em>only</em> marginally. And footing was more difficult. Moony hadn't exactly been sticking to a path. (Not that there really <em>were</em> paths, whatever.) He'd wandered apparently aimlessly for a while, his meandering trail leading out and around the lake, roughly paralleling the road to the gates until he'd passed beyond the wardline, where he'd apparently spotted the lights of the town, and headed straight for them. Because of <em>course</em> he had. Bloody werewolf...</p><p>At a dead sprint, Padfoot could cover the two and a half miles between the gates and the outskirts of the town in less than ten minutes, even in the dark and the rain. Moony almost certainly hadn't had quite the same sense of urgency coming down, but he still had enough of a head-start it wasn't at <em>all</em> surprising that when she finally spotted him he was already stalking a potential victim, or rather a pair of them, a young couple who'd apparently just left a restaurant, huddled beneath a single rain-shield spell, probably just for the excuse to snuggle close to each other. The werewolf crouched in the shadows, creeping from one doorway to the next until they turned a corner and left the well-lit highstreet behind.</p><p>She actually <em>spotted</em> him as he darted across the road to follow them. She was still too far away to stop him when the witch screamed, the wizard bellowing out an <em>impedimenta</em>, which almost certainly had no effect whatsoever, if he'd even managed to hit Moony, in the dark and the rain. She moved as fast as she could, it almost felt like flying, like her paws didn't even touch the ground, but the woman's screams took on a more pained note before she caught up.</p><p>She was on the ground, the scent of blood heavy in the air — he'd gotten her, he had to have done — Moony advancing now on the man, who backed away, throwing stunning charms at the increasingly angry wolf. (Stunning charms were about as effective on werewolves as a bloody stinging jinx.) The cutting curse he tried next was barely any better, opening a shallow gash along Moony's left shoulder.</p><p>Aster charged him side-on, didn't even slow down as she rammed into him, sending both of them tumbling and immediately monopolising his attention. For a brief moment, she thought the wizard was going to curse her, too, but after that brief, shocked moment, he seemed to realise that this was his chance to run. He edged around to his lover, careful not to take his eyes off the circling canines, and hauled her to her feet, apparating them both away with a clumsy <em>crack</em>.</p><p><em>Good</em>. One less thing to worry about.</p><p>Though, Moony obviously didn't think so, growling at her more fiercely as he seemed to realise that his prey, the human he hadn't managed to infect with the Curse, had escaped.</p><p>This might, she realised abruptly, have been a very bad idea. Picking a fight with a werewolf, deliberately pissing him off — they'd scrapped before, of course, but that was just <em>playing</em>. This — he was <em>angry</em>, now. But she couldn't let him go back to hunting humans. In fact, now the first woman had gotten away, she really, <em>really</em> needed to get him out of town — if the man had any brains at all, he'd take her to St. Mungo's. They'd recognise a werewolf bite immediately — well, a large canine bite, tainted with dark magic, and it was the full moon, so — and send word to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, who would have someone here as soon as they could scramble a team of hit wizards, which meant she had...maybe fifteen minutes, before all hell broke loose?</p><p>
  <em>Fuck!</em>
</p><p>Moony had apparently sensed, somehow, that her mind wasn't entirely on the fight, leaping at her as she considered how best to get him out of here, assuming it would take at least a <em>few</em> minutes for Cissy to get her arse in the air—</p><p>Teeth snapped at her neck, circling around, trying to grab her, force her onto her back. She hopped to her right, spinning to keep her own barred teeth in the way, making as though to jump at him with a strike of her own, but only feinting, so that she could dodge again the next time he came at her.</p><p>After two or three little exchanges, she tried to run, lead him away from the town, but he wasn't invested in her enough to follow more than a few houses. Just stopped, all smug that he'd run her off, and went back to skulking. Which was annoying. An <em>actual</em> dog (or wolf, presumably) would have made sure she wasn't coming back, maybe paraded around his territory marking it a bit to remind her what she was in for if she came this way again. Werewolves, though, had a mission. Protecting his territory and asserting dominance over an interloper like herself was secondary to his <em>need</em> to spread the Curse, to find humans to bite.</p><p>She charged at him again, but she'd given up the element of surprise. He leapt aside and spun faster than it seemed reasonable for a hundred and forty pound animal to move, teeth closing around her neck. She became abruptly aware how much larger Moony was than <em>female</em> Padfoot as he worried her a bit — her fur was thick enough there, he didn't <em>really</em> cut into her, wasn't in danger of really hurting her at that angle — yes, he <em>could</em> rip her throat out, but he'd have to let go and reposition to do so. He <em>tried</em>, flipping her onto her back with his sheer size and weight advantage, but she was expecting it, paws up to claw at his face even as she twisted and scrambled back to her feet.</p><p>He lunged, grabbing her back left leg and grinding down — that, unlike worrying her scruff, <em>was</em> going to leave a mark, she could feel teeth sinking into her, grinding down to the bone, tearing, jerking side-to-side to do more damage and pulling her back to the ground again, using his leverage to flip her belly-up, which was possibly the <em>worst</em> position to be caught in, especially when he was already at her rear, it was all too easy for him to snap at her soft, unprotected stomach. She managed to get a lucky scratch in, flailing at him and trying to regain her feet, but not before he bit down on her side, just to the fore of her pelvis — he backed off for a moment, shaking his head, a deep claw-mark scored across his nose and muzzle. Of course, that only made him angrier, but when she began backing away, trying not to put too much weight on her injured hind leg, he let her go.</p><p>Snapping and growling, of course, and he followed longer, that time, but still, after about a block or so, he turned dismissively, back toward the centre of town.</p><p>Clearly, this wasn't working. And she had no idea how long they'd been at it, but at this rate, they weren't even going to <em>need</em> the witch to report them, one of the humans in the houses around them would hear them and call someone to stop them.</p><p>Which meant it was time to do something <em>really fucking stupid</em> — she popped back to her human form, wincing as the gouges in her calf and side and the scratches on her neck asserted themselves on this body as well. (Why the Curse didn't persist across transformations too, she had no idea, she'd spent the entire month after their first full moon worrying that she'd caught it in dog form, playing a little too rough.)</p><p>The rain covered the sound of her transformation, and she was downwind, so he didn't immediately recognise the scent of human blood on the air, which meant she had time to tighten the corset just a bit to hopefully keep the tears between her ribs and hip bone from bleeding too badly, and the laces of her left boot to do the same for her leg. Testing it, she found she could at least put weight on it. Running was going to be difficult, she wouldn't be as fast as she normally was, but she couldn't outrun him, anyway, the plan was to get as far as she could, then pop back to Padfoot's form. She had at least fifty meters' head-start, she could do this.</p><p>She threw a rock at him. Her aim was slightly off, it bounced off the cobbles to his left, but it still got him to look around.</p><p><em>You want to hunt a human, well, here's a human for you</em>, she thought giddily, turning on her right leg and pushing herself as fast as she could toward the darkness on the outskirts of town.</p><p>Moony was faster. Not just faster than <em>her</em>, she'd expected <em>that</em>, but faster than she'd thought he was, even. It probably wasn't even five seconds before he was snapping at her cloak, her sign to <em>change back, damn it</em>, but she hadn't anticipated him <em>catching</em> her cloak, choking her and yanking her backward off her feet.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck, fuck, FUCK!</em>
</p><p>Actual wolves, if they were trying to take down a human (which they wouldn't) on their own (which they wouldn't), would go directly for the throat, much like a dog fighting another dog. It's pretty much the way they approach taking down <em>any</em> animal they happen to be attacking. Werewolves, on the other hand, <em>aren't trying to kill their victims</em>. They <em>do</em>, occasionally, but out of a hundred human werewolf attacks, at least fifty-seven will have the initial wounds, the first real <em>bite</em>, somewhere fleshy and thickly muscled. Somewhere it's <em>probably</em> not going to kill you. Mostly the hips and arse, upper arms. Then (in order of preference), lower legs, like the calf wound she'd already sustained, lower arms (if they happened to catch a flailing arm), torso, and only <em>then</em> shoulders and neck.</p><p>Slightly stunned by the fall, coughing and flailing at the clasp of her traitorous cloak, she rolled, feeling the heavy, unpleasant pressure of jaws closing around her upper right leg with bruising force, but in <em>this</em> form, she had armour — his teeth didn't break the skin.</p><p>He tried again, a chomp that would have taken a solid chunk out of the back of her thigh if it had gotten through the leather panels covering her arse down almost to her knees — there were only a few inches of unprotected leg between the cingulum and her high-laced dueling boots, all boney, not an attractive target for a werewolf — there was another one, her right ankle, bloody <em>hell</em>, she hoped he didn't break her leg, worrying it like that. She tried to kick him in the face, but that did absolutely <em>no</em> good, she couldn't get the angle, and all things considered, it was probably better if he spent a few minutes trying to bite through dragonhide, rather than realising that her arms were, well, not <em>completely</em> defenseless, there <em>were</em> protective enchantments on her sheath and holster which extended to her forearms as a whole, but they were <em>much</em> less effective than those on her boots and cingulum, and her upper arms were entirely vulnerable.</p><p>That said, it would really be better if he weren't in danger of biting her human self at all. She managed to twist around so she could sit up, wrenching herself into a pike, stabbing at him with her dueling knife even as she cast a shield charm to hold him off. She actually managed to connect, scoring a line almost parallel to the scratch she'd gotten on his muzzle earlier, driving him back to circle warily as she scrambled to her feet, carefully not taking her eyes off him.</p><p>From somewhere behind her, there was a slow clap.</p><p>Bella. It <em>had</em> to be Bella. (<em>Thank all the gods and Powers</em>.)</p><p>Sure enough, half a second later, right around the point Moony apparently decided that Bella, who was neither hiding behind a glowing shield nor armed with anything sharp, looked like an easier target, she said, "Congratulations, Aster. I think this might be—" She paused to spin out of the way as Moony leapt at her, dozens of runes lighting blue along her arms and hands, even down to her <em>fingers</em>, to <em>punch a fucking werewolf in the face</em> (which, <em>damn</em> that was hot), then continued. "—the single stupidest thing you've ever done. Which is saying—" A feint and an open-handed smack this time, whapping the (now slightly warier) wolf upside the head as he darted in, snarling. He stumbled, apparently slightly stunned. "—quite a lot, really. Not the plan, that was actually quite good, Cissy will be along in a few minutes," she said lightly, grinning as she circled around Moony, who was actually giving off defensive body language, now (which was both slightly absurd and also entirely reasonable). "Actually attempting to engage a werewolf in combat, as a human, on the full moon, though? Who <em>does</em> that?"</p><p>"Um...other than you?" Aster had to point out, because there was a certain irony in the situation, she felt. Being lectured about doing something Bella was doing <em>right this second</em>. Unfortunately, this seemed to remind Moony that there were two of them, and as it turned out, Bella <em>wasn't</em> the easier of the two targets. She yelped as he leapt at her, pinning her to the ground beneath her own shield charm, the impact knocking her knife out of her hand.</p><p>"Yes, other than <em>me</em>, obviously." She closed the distance between them in a matter of steps, tackling Moony off of Aster with a flying leap in much the same way Padfoot had bowled him over earlier, apparently just because she could. Her momentum carried the two of them off to Aster's left, a furious, rolling tangle of dark fur and pale limbs. She was pretty sure Moony <em>landed</em> on the bottom, but by the time they stopped tumbling, he was on top, lunging at her face and neck as she held him up by his front paws, giggling madly, looking probably as happy as Aster had ever seen her, with a wolf at least half again as heavy as she was pinning her to the ground, two inches from biting her nose off.</p><p>It didn't really register until she was pinned and "vulnerable" that she was horribly under-dressed for the weather, let alone for fighting a fucking wolf in hand-to-hand combat — barefoot, in a light under-blouse and knee-length bloomers, plastered to her body and practically translucent from the rain. Her hair was actually tamed for once, plaited back, probably because it would be a sopping rat's nest (like Aster's) if it weren't. She had a simple, silver locket around her neck — Aster was fairly certain it contained her communication mirrors, one for Narcissa and one for de Mort — and her wand-holster strapped to her left arm, but aside from that... What the hell had she been doing before Cissy called her? Aster hadn't even known that Bella <em>owned</em> anything in white...</p><p>"Not to, you know, <em>criticize</em>, or whatever, but why don't you just immobilise him? I mean, <em>I</em> don't know any spells that would work, but..." But she assumed Bella did.</p><p>Sure enough, "Oh, there's about half a dozen or so, one of them's even neutral enough I could probably teach you. But they don't hold very long, maybe a minute or two — plenty of time to finish a wolf off, but not long enough to get him to a safehouse. And this is more fun."</p><p>"<em>Fun?!</em> Bella! We don't have time for <em>fun</em>! We need to get him under control, or at <em>least</em> out of town, before Regulation and Control shows up with a squad of Hit Wizards and people start dying!"</p><p>Maybe sending for Bella had been a bad idea. Yes, watching Bella fight Moony was a hell of a lot less painful than doing it herself, but if they didn't get out of here quick enough, she was almost sure to consider fighting a load of comically under-prepared Hit Wizards (prepared to deal with a werewolf, or even a whole pack of werewolves, was not at <em>all</em> the same as prepared to face a battlemage defending a werewolf like a bloody lunatic) even <em>more</em> fun. <em>Before</em> she'd shown up, Aster's concern had been that they would kill Moony. <em>Now</em> she was more worried that Bella would kill <em>them</em>.</p><p>"Oh, come off it, Cissy will be along any minute now. Besides, if I can't play with <em>my</em> werewolves tonight, I have to entertain myself <em>somehow</em>."</p><p>"<em>So</em> sorry to ruin your evening, with my stupid ex-friends letting a fucking werewolf loose on the bloody town."</p><p>"Yes, speaking of— Oh, fine, you big baby," she muttered, apparently at Moony, who seemed to be less aggressively angry, now, and more defensively angry, no longer lunging and snapping at her face, but whining and growling as he twisted in her grip, trying to nip her fingers and get his front legs back. She pulled a knee up to her chest, planting a foot at the base of his left hind leg, and <em>pushed</em>, throwing him off her and rolling to her feet before he could recover. Not that it mattered, he retreated to circle them warily about ten feet away, rather than get too close and get punched in the face again. "Speaking of which, <em>how</em>, exactly, did this sequence of events come about? Cissy and Asphodel just said you were off chasing down a rogue werewolf, and would I please make sure neither you nor he got yourselves killed before Cissy could come rescue you."</p><p>"Oh. Right. Well, remember how I told you that Pete and the King of the Toerags put a ward-gate in the safehouse where Moony was supposed to be staying? As it turns out, they apparently just poked a hole in <em>all</em> of the wards. Including the one to keep werewolves <em>in</em>, not just the one to keep humans out. So, I'm not <em>entirely</em> sure, but—"</p><p>Her explanation was interrupted by a near-translucent spell-glow, expertly aimed at the werewolf in question from a spot some ten meters up and to Aster's right. Narcissa sank lower, glaring at them through the rain — it had slacked off a bit, but it was still drizzly, the moon still hidden behind thick clouds. "There, one werewolf, Imperiused. You owe me. What do you want me to do with it?"</p><p>Aster looked to Bella, who smirked at her. "This is your show, duckie."</p><p>Aster scowled. <em>Fine</em>. "Can you make him stay calm and follow me? Follow my instructions, I mean, even after you're gone."</p><p>"Can I instantly tame and train a bloody werewolf? Oh, sure, no problem," she said, with an unnecessary degree of sarcasm. "Simple concepts, Asteria. Ones that don't directly conflict with the Curse's drives, or it will overwhelm the command as soon as I break the connection."</p><p>Well, bugger. "What about just putting him to sleep? Oh! And can you, I don't know, make it so we — Bella and I — don't register as <em>human</em> to him? So he won't attack us if he wakes up."</p><p>"I...think so?"</p><p>"Don't worry about that part, Cissy. I'm immune to the Curse—" Cissy looked for a moment as though she might have something to say about that claim — not that Aster doubted it, she knew Greyback's pack didn't see her as human, it wasn't surprising she couldn't be turned, either. Or that Bella had (probably) let them try it, just to see. "—and Aster can just stay a dog, or go back to the school or whatever. Were you planning on fixing the wards on the safehouse?" she asked, watching Moony swaying gently, growing obviously more tired before their eyes. After a few seconds, he curled up in the middle of the street, his eyes drifting shut.</p><p>"Well..." She hadn't really thought that far ahead, honestly. But she certainly wasn't up to trying to fix the wards herself. She honestly wasn't feeling up to much more than taking a blood replenishing potion and going the fuck to sleep. "No. Can we just break into the Cottage and hole up there until morning?"</p><p>Bella shrugged, nodded, retrieving Aster's cloak and casting a few spells to obscure their presence, vanishing any traces of her blood from the cobbles and so on.</p><p>
  <em>Fantastic.</em>
</p><p>"Does that mean I'm done, here? I can go back up to the school, inside, where it's warm and <em>dry</em>?"</p><p>Honestly, Cissy was such a <em>cat</em> sometimes... It was just <em>water</em>. Really cold, <em>annoying</em> water, but. "<em>Yes</em>, Cissy. And yes, I owe you. Thank you." She carefully levitated the sleeping wolf off the cobblestones, pulling him over to float beside her. "Bella, you can let us in, right?"</p><p>"I don't think anyone actually bothered to remove you from the wards. You <em>are</em> still a Black, so..." she trailed off, headed down...Tulip? Were they on Tulip? Aster had <em>completely</em> lost her bearings in the fight. Anyway, she <em>presumed</em> Bella knew where she was going, following her seemed like a perfectly fine plan to Aster.</p><p>...Gave her loads of time to think out what to do next.</p><p>She was probably going to have to talk to Dumbledore, she realised.</p><p><em>Bugger</em>.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Damage Control</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tired as she was, Aster couldn't stay at the Cottage and just go to sleep. She knew that. Even <em>before</em> a squad of Hit Wizards and Regulation and Control field agents apparated right in front of the restaurant the couple had been coming out of. She and Bella had only been a scant few blocks away when they started sweeping the town, looking for any signs of where Moony might've gone, but it had been far enough they'd had time to make a run for the Cottage before they'd been spotted. And thankfully, the rain seemed to be muddling the Ministry's tracking charms enough they didn't realise that Moony's trail abruptly <em>ended</em> at the site of their altercation, or that two humans had walked away from it, without actually walking <em>into</em> it.</p>
<p>She had to go talk to Dumbledore.</p>
<p>He was the one who'd brought Remus to the school, the one who'd assured whoever he'd had to assure that it would be fine. That there would be precautions in place. He'd be in almost as much trouble as Remus if (<em>when</em>) word got out. Well, not from a <em>potential death sentence</em> perspective, but from a <em>moral condemnation</em> perspective. Which was kind of like breaking someone's wand because they used it to cast an Unforgivable, and letting the actual <em>person</em> off with a slap on the wrist, but whatever. There would still be political consequences, and they needed to figure out what to do with Remus when he woke up in the morning.</p>
<p>Where he should go.</p>
<p>She was sure he couldn't go back to the school. Even if the <em>students</em> didn't know that he was a werewolf (mostly), Madam Pomfrey did, and probably Professor McGonagall, and who knew how many other professors had put it together. She'd be shocked if their Astronomy professors hadn't. Well, Bailey, at least. Weatherwax would probably be just as aware of the moon phases, but she was a bit less concerned with anything <em>nearer</em> than the moon, probably hadn't noticed Remus's absences. And while McGonagall probably wouldn't say anything if Dumbledore ordered her to keep her damn mouth shut, Bailey would tell him to go piss into the wind. Madam Pomfrey might, too, even. She wouldn't want to see Remus executed, but he <em>was</em> a danger to public health and safety, if Dumbledore couldn't keep him contained. And she'd <em>definitely</em> know he'd gotten out, when she went to find him in the morning and he wasn't there.</p>
<p>Plus, there had to be <em>some</em> people in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures who knew. Mister Lupin was already working there when Greyback turned Remus. It was a political statement, a response to some comments Mister Lupin had made. So people <em>had</em> to know. He might've managed to keep the whole situation hush-hush <em>outside</em> of the Ministry, maybe even outside of his department, but Remus <em>was</em> on the Registry. They'd <em>have</em> to investigate his whereabouts, and whether he could have been responsible. Anyone <em>else</em>, she might say, fix the wards on the safehouse tonight and pretend he was there all along, must've been some other rogue werewolf and bluff it out, but this was <em>Remus</em>.</p>
<p>Even if his victim <em>hadn't</em> turned up at St. Mungo's (which she might not have, if the bite itself weren't life-threatening, hoping to avoid ruining her <em>own</em> life by basically preemptively turning herself in as a werewolf, but when had Remus Lupin's luck ever been that good?), and everyone else had kept their mouths shut, he would probably have decided he couldn't live with the guilt of having turned some innocent person or something, and turned himself in. He <em>would</em> remember — not clearly, more like being in a dream, or drunk and three kinds of high, but he would <em>know</em>. And he couldn't be trusted not to do something really, <em>really</em> stupid like give himself up and get himself summarily executed before she could convince him that none of this was his fault.</p>
<p>So he couldn't go back, but...Aster had <em>no</em> idea where he <em>should</em> go. And regardless of where he went, Dumbledore would have to be involved in his cover story, tell the other students that his mum had suddenly taken a drastic turn for the worse (his usual excuse for his monthly absences was that she was ill), so he'd been pulled out of school to stay with her until the end, or whatever. He almost certainly wouldn't be willing to tell the public that Remus was a werewolf, and Dumbledore had been standing surety for him, and he'd <em>failed</em>, let a werewolf escape into Hogsmeade (with the oh-so-helpful assistance of a certain stag with rocks where his brain should be). Aster wasn't really sure how he'd weasel out of the Ministry holding him accountable for Moony's escape and Remus's disappearance, but that wasn't her problem. <em>Her</em> problem was keeping her friend from being executed for something entirely beyond his control.</p>
<p>Obviously she knew other werewolves she could introduce him to, but...</p>
<p>Okay. Greyback's pack would almost certainly take him in. Greyback had turned him in the first place, she was pretty sure. In that light, Remus was his responsibility, and it wasn't as though Greyback just threw away potential pack members, the whole point was (or had been) that he wanted to raise the kids he turned as werewolves rather than human. Build up their own little society, like.</p>
<p>But Remus, like most of the <em>other</em> werewolves in Britain, <em>had</em> ended up being raised human, and abhorred violence, and thought the fact that Greyback was aligned with the Death Eaters was absolutely <em>horrible</em> (even if it did mean he didn't really turn kids anymore, kids were fucking <em>useless</em> in a war). And even if he <em>didn't</em>...well <em>some</em> of the Pack were alright.</p>
<p>Clarence, the big, dark-skinned man who was their second-in-command, was a nice enough bloke. The only one she actually <em>liked</em>, kind of reminded her of BJ — he really just seemed to have fallen in with a bad crowd, and was fighting to protect his mates, his <em>pack</em>, more than anything else. Which, wasn't that why Aster was (had been?) supporting the Light? So, he was alright. And there were supposedly a couple of pack members who had practically nothing to do with the Death Eaters because they were too old or too young or crippled or whatever to be any use on a battlefield.</p>
<p>Most of them, though, were low-lifes and thugs who'd been given licence to kill (or turn people) by the Death Eaters, and a target for their hatred and frustration in their repression at the hands of daylight society. A few, including Greyback himself, apparently really believed in their Cause, thought it was a heinous violation of human rights to basically <em>decide someone didn't count as human anymore</em> because they <em>caught a fucking disease</em>, and had political reasons for allying with de Mort. (Aster wasn't terribly clear on his ideology, he'd kind of scared her as a kid so they'd never really talked.) And even <em>they</em> tended to be kind of...tough, manly men, with deliberately rough edges and a variety of chips on their shoulders. They took a peculiar sort of pride in their savagery and embraced their Curse, disparaging the <em>vast</em> majority of human society (light and dark, including almost all of the Death Eaters) for being soft, scared, fussy and overly concerned with appearances, and a whole host of other traits they considered <em>feminine</em>. They would almost certainly consider quiet, bookish Remus to be a complete pansy-arse.</p>
<p>A square Tim.</p>
<p>A housepet — <em>domesticated</em>.</p>
<p>He'd be bullied relentlessly, unless and until he 'proved himself' to them somehow. Bella had once told Aster that she'd had to eat a human eyeball before they finally understood that she wasn't just some spoiled little human girl playing at war, promoted to lieutenant because she was sucking the Dark Lord's cock. And that was <em>after</em> she beat Greyback in a knife fight the first time they met. Aster still had no idea whether that was true, but she wouldn't be surprised if it were — either that one of them had given Bella what they thought was an impossible hazing challenge, <em>or </em>that she'd just gone ahead and indulged in a spot of light cannibalism to prove she was just as insane as everyone said. And unlike Bella, Remus definitely <em>wouldn't</em> play their games. He'd refuse to even try to make a place for himself in their pack, if it meant acting like a monster when he was human, as well.</p>
<p>He'd fit in much better in Starlight.</p>
<p>Old Morgen — the unofficial leader of the Starlight wolves — would <em>love</em> him, probably for exactly the same reasons Greyback's men would hate him. They valued civility, their <em>humanity</em>, in a way Greyback's pack didn't.</p>
<p>The problem <em>there</em> was, well...compared to <em>the Blacks</em>, the Lupins were poor. But compared to the Blacks, <em>everyone</em> was poor. It wasn't as though the Lupins had never had food on the table, or decent clothes, or somewhere to stay that they didn't have to share with at least a dozen other people. Mister Lupin had a well-paying Ministry job. They lived in a muggle neighborhood rather than Hogsmeade or Charing or one of the other magical enclaves in Britain, which was generally considered a mark of poverty by most British mages, but only so the neighbors wouldn't get too suspicious about their son's mysterious illness, or at least wouldn't be able to guess he was a werewolf. Aster had visited them once, and she'd definitely say they were better off than the Evanses. And his parents weren't as...supportive, as Remus might like — they loved him, of course, but his mother resented how much more difficult his Curse made their lives, and Greyback turning his son hadn't made his father any more sympathetic to werewolves in general. But they weren't <em>cruel</em>. They'd never intentionally deprived him of food or shelter or even creature comforts, like shoes that fit and a bed of his own.</p>
<p>It was...kind of a shock, realising that people actually <em>lived like that</em>, seeing the realities of true <em>poverty</em> up close and personal for the first time, but at least Aster had known before she found Starlight what it was to go hungry (if only for a few days at a time, in an act of defiance against her parents), how it felt to spend a night sleeping on a bench occasionally, rather than go home. What it meant to be rejected by your own family and society for being <em>different</em>.</p>
<p>Probably more than Remus, actually. It wasn't like it was openly acknowledged that he was a werewolf. His parents had gone to great lengths to hide it from their neighbors, and everyone at Hogwarts accepted him. Might've thought he was a bit of an overly-cautious stick-in the-mud, but he wasn't openly shunned, or whatever. Aster, on the other hand, had made it very, <em>very</em> clear over the past five years that she despised her family and their principles and the Dark as a whole. Bella and de Mort might have a tendency to ignore her loudly-professed hatred of them, but most of the people she'd grown up with, children of the Dark Houses and family alike, wanted nothing to do with her. Which was <em>fine</em>, fuck them, but it <em>did</em> make summers almost painfully lonely.</p>
<p>And more than that, Remus was...sheltered. He'd never seen anyone suffering from viv withdrawal, or so drunk they'd passed out in a gutter and might be dead, for all anyone cared. He was a stranger to the utter <em>callousness</em> of humanity — like James, he kind of thought that, deep down, people were more light than dark. He'd never seen children crying because they were scared that their parents (or the adults who cared for them, most of the time — a lot of children in Starlight were orphans, or raised collectively by the community, because no one family had the resources to raise them alone) hadn't come home, and what if the Aurors got them? or picking through muggle rubbish skips looking for day-old bread and half-eaten take-away meals, and all the good people of London walking by with their noses turned up, not giving a single fuck, because it wasn't <em>their</em> problem.</p>
<p>She didn't think he'd ever <em>seen</em>, let alone <em>spoken to</em>, beggars or whores or the ubiquitous bloke who knows a bloke who can get you what you're looking for, or been accosted by paranoid madmen accusing you of stealing money they'd never had, or senile old ladies who thought you were someone they knew and wanted a bloody hug. He'd never seen anyone <em>die</em>. She wasn't <em>sure</em>, but she didn't even think Remus <em>knew</em> anyone who'd died. Not <em>well</em>, anyway.</p>
<p>Yes, Aster knew, now, that it was highly unusual that she <em>had</em> seen people die before coming to school, and Starlighters weren't <em>nearly</em> as likely to fall to illness and the like now that they could come to the Death Eaters for healing, but accidents still happened, and violence, and particularly bad moons. One of the kittens had been run over by a lorry last summer. The entire enclave had mourned her for <em>weeks</em>. Aster had attended her funeral, such as it was. (More cats — and human-shaped cats — than Aster had ever seen in one place before, sitting solemnly and <em>watching</em> as her tiny pyre burned, and then long after it had burned out, until the wind carried the ashes away.)</p>
<p>The Starlighters themselves could be some of the kindest, most welcoming people Aster had ever met (to non-humans), it wasn't really a question whether they'd find a place for Remus. Mages, especially Hogwarts-educated mages, were always valuable to the community, even if they would have to find a trace-broken wand for him, but she knew they'd take him in even if he were a muggle. There was no place for good, upstanding werewolves in the daylight world, so it was a point of pride that there was <em>always</em> a place for them in Starlight. But their life itself was harder. Less...certain. Less <em>secure</em>, maybe, was a better term.</p>
<p>And Aster...wasn't really sure whether Remus would be able to handle that, the stress of not knowing where his next meal was coming from, or whether the DLE might decide to raid them on a full moon, when the wolves locked themselves in industrial-sized freezers in abandoned factories with upyri to guard them, or even just being forced to live cheek by jowl with all the other unfortunates and outcasts of Britain. The lack of privacy in Starlight bothered Aster more than almost anything else. Strange, maybe, since she almost always preferred to surround herself with people, but Starlight was like a hive, or a warren, maybe. There was nowhere to go where one <em>could</em> be alone. She always felt like she had to be on good behaviour around them (even animagi were only <em>suffered</em> by the wolves and upyri, even if she was fully accepted by the wilderfolk), and there was never a chance to <em>relax</em>, because there was <em>always</em> someone around. And Remus was a much more private person than she was.</p>
<p>Maybe Dumbledore knew someone who would have a better idea, a contact in one of the French reservations, maybe?</p>
<p>She apparated back to the gates and dragged herself across the grounds, slipped through the empty hallways like a very tired, very <em>wet </em>shadow, avoiding Filch and Peeves and the first prefect patrol of the evening (it was <em>barely</em> past curfew, but she could pretty much guarantee that if any prefect other than Evans or Cissy caught her in the corridors, there would be questions about why she was wet and bloody and dressed like she was going to war) until she reached the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. Every step of the way, she cursed the fact that the enchantments on her armour prevented her using drying spells on herself. It was <em>really bloody annoying</em>, and she couldn't take it off when her corset was acting as a pressure bandage and she didn't have a healer on hand to patch her up if she started bleeding all over everything. Bella had better still be at the Cottage when she got back, she'd promised to keep an eye on Moony, and Aster was probably going to need her to sew the wounds closed for her, since healing charms wouldn't work on werewolf bites. She cringed a little just thinking about it. She <em>hated </em>chirurgery.</p>
<p>The password hadn't changed in the past three days, and the statue didn't care that it was after eleven. Dumbledore probably would, she'd probably have to wait on the landing while he hauled himself out of bed, but this was an emergency, she was fairly confident that waking him in the middle of the night wouldn't matter any more than the fact that she'd been with Evans and Cissy last time he'd seen her, and was obviously having doubts about the Light. None of that had anything to do with Remus.</p>
<p>Or at least, she <em>assumed</em> she'd have to wait. But there was light showing under the door when she reached the top of the tower, and when she knocked on it — rather more forcefully than necessary — and shouted "It's a bloody emergency, Headmaster! Open up!", it did.</p>
<p>To reveal both Dumbledore and James, the former grim and serious, the latter slightly panicked, his eyes catching hers like a punch in the gut. Dumbledore began speaking before, it seemed, her appearance fully registered, distracting her (thankfully) from James. "I'm sorry, Miss Black, but whatever it is— What is the meaning of this, Bellatrix?" he demanded, cutting himself off. He glared furiously at her, his hand resting on his wand, as though—</p>
<p>Oh, wait, she probably did look kind of threatening and out of her bloody mind at the moment, dressed for battle and soaked to the skin. And yes, she supposed it <em>would</em> be fairly easy to mistake her for Bella, what with her hair plastered over half her face, hiding at least one of her eyes.</p>
<p>"Pax," she said quickly, holding her hands up to make it <em>very</em> clear she wasn't about to start a fucking fight in the middle of his office. She pulled her hair back with her right hand so he could see her face better, and twisted her left to display the absence of evil soul-brand tattoos on her forearm. "I'm Asteria."</p>
<p>The Headmaster visibly relaxed, enough she felt it was safe to put her arms down and let herself collapse into the nearest chair.</p>
<p>"Why're you dressed like Bellatrix?" James demanded.</p>
<p>Dumbledore spoke over him. "Apologies, Miss Black. But whatever it is, it will have to wait, I'm afraid, there's been an...accident, which requires my attention elsewhere."</p>
<p>"If that accident involves a fucking moron poking a hole in the wards on the Shrieking Shack for his own fucking <em>convenience</em>—" James blanched. Apparently he hadn't told Dumbledore that. (Which rather begged the question what he <em>had</em> told Dumbledore about how he even knew Moony was out in the first place, but Aster didn't really care.) "—and letting a certain werewolf loose in Hogsmeade, it's taken care of. Which is why I'm dressed like Bellatrix."</p>
<p>"And by <em>taken care of</em> you mean...?" Dumbledore asked delicately.</p>
<p>Did he <em>really</em> think Aster would have killed him? <em>Really?!</em> "I mean Moony's neutralised. Asleep. Bella's minding him."</p>
<p>"You left him with <em>Bellatrix</em>?!" James shouted, as Dumbledore repeated, "<em>Asleep?</em>" sounding completely befuddled. "<em>How?</em>"</p>
<p>"Bella likes werewolves. And if you know anyone else who could keep him contained without wards if he wakes up, feel free to call them instead. I'm sure she'd rather go back to playing Herla and Elsbet with her own wolves than sit around minding one that's unconscious."</p>
<p>"Miss Black! How did you manage to render the Wolf unconscious? Do you understand how– how <em>vitally</em> important such a discovery—"</p>
<p>Aster cut him off impatiently. Did he not realise they had more important things to talk about, here? "It doesn't matter, most people can't do it, and I really doubt anyone who can would be willing to on a regular basis."</p>
<p>"Still, Miss Black, I must insist..."</p>
<p>Aster sighed. He wasn't going to like this. "Werewolves aren't human. No one would argue that they are, especially in wolf form. Therefore, it can't be an Unforgivable Act to cast the Imperius on one."</p>
<p>She was right, he <em>didn't</em> like that. He settled back into his chair, behind his desk, a very judgmental <em>stare</em> weighing her, as though even <em>mentioning</em> an Unforgivable Curse was an Unforgivable Act.</p>
<p>James, on the other hand, continued to be a moron. "You <em>cast an Unforgivable?</em> Sirius!"</p>
<p>"I've cast <em>all</em> the Unforgivables, Potter. Not <em>on humans</em>—" Imperiusing Cissy for practice didn't count. "—and I can't anymore, not now that I've re-aligned my magic, but I <em>do</em> still <em>know</em> people who can cast them."</p>
<p>"Who was it, then? Bellatrix?"</p>
<p>"No, Bella's pants at the Imperius. Well, comparatively speaking. Doesn't have the personality for it. And I'm not telling you. I'm not talking to you at all at the moment, in case you haven't noticed."</p>
<p>"What the hell are you talking about? Obviously you <em>are</em>..."</p>
<p>"No, not <em>literally, right now</em>, this is an emergency, and you've just demonstrated you're such an idiot, I might actually be able to convince myself that your opinion of me doesn't matter. But I'm tired — I had to distract him until help got there, and fighting a werewolf is no picnic—"</p>
<p>"Then why did you stop Pete coming up here to get Dumbledore, if you didn't want to have to wait for help—"</p>
<p>"Well, for one thing, I still would've had to wait. Even if he does have a tracking focus, Pete would've had to explain and convince him that Moony was out and— How long've you been up here?"</p>
<p>He gave an uneasy shrug. "Maybe half an hour? A little more?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, and you were still standing around talking when I got here. And you're a hell of a lot more authoritative than Peter. I don't see Fawkes, so it would be at <em>least</em> another fifteen minutes for Dumbledore to get down to Hogsmeade. Even if Pete had come up here straight away, that's twenty minutes longer I would've had to try to hold him, he probably would've killed me, and if he <em>didn't</em>, we probably would've gotten picked up by the R and C, and if we got away from <em>them</em>, Dumbledore would probably have used a Silver Dart or the Sun-Spear of Ra or something to put Remus down when he caught up and fucking crippled him, assuming the shock didn't kill him outright!"</p>
<p>"<em>You</em> could have waited! No one asked <em>you </em>to stop him!" James snapped, ignoring her second and third points entirely, because she was <em>absolutely right</em>.</p>
<p>"And then he'd've had another half an hour to get spotted biting <em>more</em> humans and did you <em>miss</em> me saying the Hit Wizards are down in Hogsmeade right this fucking second? Showed up <em>right</em> after we captured him. They'd've had him in custody for twenty-five minutes by the time we got there, and we'd all be completely buggered! Why the fuck did you send Pete to get me if you didn't want my help?"</p>
<p>"He bit someone," Dumbledore interrupted before James could explain what exactly he'd <em>thought</em> Aster was going to do, if not take care of the problem while everyone else was being slow and letting it get worse. Outsiders were always, <em>always</em> slow to react when time was of the essence, it was one of the most dependable, and also most <em>infuriating</em> things about them. Oh, there's a werewolf on the loose, better stand around for half an hour talking before we fucking <em>do</em> anything about that, <em>honestly!</em> The old man's voice fell to a horrified hush, his face growing pale and drawn behind his beard.</p>
<p>"<em>Yes</em>. A woman. Probably a local, they were coming out of Aunt Fanny's. Franchesca's," she added, in case Dumbledore didn't know that was what the students called the one decent Italian place in Hogsmeade. "Didn't get a good look at her before her date apparated her away. I was slightly preoccupied at the time, you see. That's the only reason I'm only here <em>now </em>— there are things we need to talk about before I get myself sewn up and pass the fuck out. I suppose it's too much to ask that you had a plan for something like this?"</p>
<p>"You were bitten as well?" Dumbledore demanded, frowning at her as though looking for the wound and ignoring her question, which probably meant, <em>yes</em>, that <em>was</em> too much to ask.</p>
<p>"As a dog. Ah— You know I'm an animagus, right?" From the look of intense surprise on his face, no, he hadn't. "Bloody hell, Potter, what <em>did</em> you tell him?" He winced at her use of his surname. <em>Good</em>. She didn't let him answer because she didn't care, but if he hadn't explained that they were animagi, and he hadn't told Dumbledore about the ward gate, she did have to wonder how the hell he'd managed to convince the Old Goat there was even a problem in the first place. (Maybe <em>that </em>was why they hadn't already left to do something about it?) "The wounds assert themselves across forms, but the Curse doesn't take if you're bitten as an animal. No idea why."</p>
<p>The old man fixed her with a solemn frown. "But it <em>does</em>, my dear. It <em>does</em>. I'm so sorry to have to be the one to tell you, but the only protection afforded to an animagus against the Werewolf Curse is that the werewolf should have no reason to attack a common animal. But if an animagus were to pick a fight with one... I'm sorry, Miss Black. I am so <em>very</em> so—"</p>
<p>"Um, no? Clearly it doesn't, I was bitten <em>months</em> ago, too, and I'm not a wolf <em>now</em>, so..."</p>
<p>"She was, Professor," James confirmed, when Dumbledore just looked at her like she'd lost her bloody mind. A sort of pitying, disbelieving, <em>you poor deluded thing</em> look.</p>
<p>"But... I'm afraid that's simply not possible, my dear."</p>
<p>Aster shrugged. Clearly, it was. She really didn't know what else to tell him. What was she supposed to say? <em>Apparently I'm immune to the Curse, must be a Black thing?</em> It actually might be, Bella had told her that playing chase with her wolves wasn't really as dangerous as it sounded, because they could sense that she wasn't prey. If she ran, they would chase her, because it was <em>fun</em> (and also instinct), but they thought there was too much magic in her for the Curse to take properly, like a vampire or something. She (and Aster) had assumed that was because she was a black mage, or maybe just because she was a bloody sorceress, but it could just as easily be that one of the Blacks' blood alchemy enhancements of their line over the centuries, or their habit of practising subsumption from the age of seven, or the fact that they were <em>all</em> touched by the Dark already— Oh, <em>fuck.</em> <em>Last</em> time she'd been bitten was before she'd broken the Covenant. What if...</p>
<p>No, not important. She'd worry about it later. Make a point of locking herself up on the moon, if she started feeling <em>off</em> as it waxed next month. (Based on Remus's behaviour in the gibbous phase, she <em>would</em> be able to tell <em>something</em> was wrong with her.) And if it turned out she <em>had</em> been turned, well, it wasn't the end of the fucking world. Sure, she'd be a pariah in polite society, but she was already kind of a pariah in polite society — and polite society could go collectively suck a dick, anyway.</p>
<p>"I'm fine. Probably. Worry about Remus. He's the one who's going to realise he ruined some poor witch's life when he wakes up. And I <em>know</em> people know about him. And the D.R.C.C. was already down in Hogsmeade, people <em>will</em> make the connection. So, about that <em>plan</em>?" Dumbledore somehow managed to look even older and more drawn at that change of subject. "He can't come back here," she prompted him, quickly running through her reasoning, the old man's face growing grimmer with every sentence.</p>
<p>He continued to hold his peace, though, even after she finished, eyes distant and horrified behind steepled fingers.</p>
<p>"Sir?" James said. "There has to be somewhere else he can go, right? Maybe one of the Safehouses?"</p>
<p>"Safehouses?" Aster repeated.</p>
<p>"Er...yeah, the Order of the Phoenix has been setting up safehouses for muggleborns, the ones who aren't old enough for school yet, and their families. Dad mentioned them a while ago," he explained, with a somewhat embarrassed glance over at Dumbledore. "I, ah, wasn't supposed to say anything. But if <em>anyone</em> needs a safehouse right now, it'd be Remus...right?"</p>
<p>The Old Goat shook himself out of his stupor. "Unfortunately, none of the Safehouses are equipped to contain a transformed werewolf—"</p>
<p>"So? You have a whole month to ward one," Aster pointed out.</p>
<p>"The nature of the protections on the Safehouses precludes the use of such containment wards as would be necessary, I'm afraid."</p>
<p>"Well, then, where is he supposed to go? He can't go <em>home</em>, they'll find him in a matter of days, and arrest his parents too, for harbouring a dangerous werewolf fugitive. Mister Lupin would be lucky not to avoid a treason charge, given that, you know, keeping werewolves controlled is part of his <em>job</em>, and all."</p>
<p>"Mister Lupin works for the Spirit Division, Miss Black," Dumbledore reminded her absently, as though that <em>mattered</em>. He might <em>technically</em> be an exorcist, but he was also one of the loudest anti-werewolf voices in the department. (Who would have thought attacking someone's son would make them hate you even more?) And she was pretty sure the entire department took the same oaths in regards to <em>following and enforcing British law.</em></p>
<p>"So, what, force Lyall and Hope to keep him a prisoner in his own home, and pray to any gods who might be listening that the D.R.C.C. doesn't notice that one of their employees, whose son is a known werewolf wanted for turning someone, always calls in sick on the full moon so he can curse their feral fugitive into submission?" (Hope was a muggle, so obviously she wouldn't be able to do it herself.)</p>
<p>"There has to be <em>something</em>," James said desperately. "Something that— You're his <em>custos</em>, aren't you, sir? Surely you could– could <em>appeal</em>, or—"</p>
<p>Aster cut him off with a sharp <em>ha!</em> "Yes, Dumbledore is responsible, alright, even if <em>you're</em> the one who's at <em>fault</em>. What he <em>should</em> do is kill Remus himself and resign every position of authority he holds in shame for having failed in his duty as a <em>custos</em>. Either that, or throw <em>you</em> to the wolves for interfering with the protections he put in place, those are the <em>only</em> options to get him out of being held responsible. And he'd <em>still</em> be bound to execute Remus if he were to see him again."</p>
<p>"He wouldn't do that!" James snapped, before turning to his hero and realising Aster was <em>completely</em> right. "There— There has to be some other... Please, sir! I– I didn't <em>mean</em> to — and it wasn't Remus's fault!"</p>
<p>"No, Mister Potter, I would not. I cannot in good conscience hold you responsible for my own lack of concern for the state of the containment wards on Mister Lupin's safehouse, and I will not execute an innocent child for a crime committed against his will, in a state of mind he could not control. No more than I would have turned <em>you</em>, Miss Black, over to the Aurors for endangering Mister Snape's life in the throes of a fit of madness." Yeah, well, he hadn't actually thought Snape was in danger at the time, had he? "However," he gave a heavy sigh. "However, I also cannot in good conscience allow myself to be removed from my current position of influence, not with the delicate political state of the country at the moment. It would be only too easy for the Dark to take advantage of such a turn of affairs. I simply cannot."</p>
<p>Aster gave him a scornful glare. "So you'll be going with the tried and true method of bribing and threatening investigators into submission, then? How, <em>exactly</em>, is the Light supposed to be different from the Dark, again?"</p>
<p>"<em>No</em>, Miss Black, I will not bribe or threaten the investigators. I will simply suggest that the wards on Mister Lupin's safehouse were sabotaged by dark wizards or witches unknown, perhaps allies of the man who turned him in the first place, all those years ago. It would be in keeping, I think, with Fenrir Greyback's reputation to imagine that, were he aware of one of 'his' wolves attempting to deny his 'true nature', he would take steps to make such denial impossible."</p>
<p>James looked <em>deeply</em> uncomfortable that his idol would do something as dark and ignoble as <em>lie</em> to <em>protect his own political position</em>, but given that the alternative was <em>his</em> neck on the line, after a moment he nodded.</p>
<p>Aster bit her lip. That...might actually work. Remus would still have to disappear, and Dumbledore might lose a degree of face for letting something like that get past him, but Crouch almost certainly wouldn't pursue punitive justice for his failure in upholding his duty as a <em>custos</em> if he could reasonably blame the Death Eaters instead. And everyone would just assume that Remus had succumbed to the inevitable and joined Greyback, especially if he clearly wasn't at Hogwarts or at his parents' home. The D.R.C.C. <em>might</em> raid Starlight looking for him, but if he actually stayed with the Pack for a couple of months before going to Morgen, they'd probably stop wasting resources looking for someone who was <em>obviously</em> off with a group of radicals they were already trying to apprehend pretty quickly.</p>
<p>"That <em>does</em> still leave the question of what is to be done with Mister Lupin, however," the old man mused. "I will admit, I'm rather at a loss as to where we might be able to harbour him without raising undue suspicion."</p>
<p><em>Oh, piss on your </em>undue suspicion. "I'll take care of it," Aster said abruptly.</p>
<p>She'd just have to make it <em>very fucking clear</em> that Remus was <em>not</em> joining the Pack or the Death Eaters, just seeking temporary sanctuary with them, and they'd shut the fuck up and lump it, and also make sure he didn't run off to turn himself in, because this was all <em>Greyback's</em> fault before anyone else's, and if he didn't damn well take responsibility for it and mind Remus for a couple of months and then let him go to Starlight when it was safe, she'd stab him in the eye. (Or some other suitably mad, Bella-esque threat, the specifics didn't matter nearly so much as the fact that they <em>knew</em> Bella would follow through on such a promise, and after watching them play-fighting at Ancient House a few days ago, the wolves were suitably convinced that she was basically exactly the same person as Bella.)</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, Miss Black?" Dumbledore said, as though he hadn't quite heard her correctly. "What is it that you're proposing, precisely?"</p>
<p>"I'm <em>proposing</em> that it's better if you don't know precisely what I'm proposing. You worry about covering your own arse. I'll take care of Remus."</p>
<p>"Sirius!" Aster's traitorous eyes flicked over to James entirely of their own accord. "You can't just talk to the Headmaster like that!"</p>
<p>"Yeah, well, quite frankly I don't have the patience to act like a bloody sycophant at the moment. I've just done him one major boon by capturing Moony before R and C, and I'm solving his most immediate problem for him, and he <em>is</em> more worried about covering his own arse than what happens to Remus, or you, or <em>anyone</em>, so I'll talk to him however I please — and my name is <em>not Sirius</em> anymore, <em>Potter</em>, and even if it <em>were</em>, <em>we</em> aren't on familiar terms, in case you haven't noticed, so you can just. Fuck. Off." James flinched, clearly hurt and taken aback by her vehemence. Again, <em>good</em>. She turned back to Dumbledore with a scowl. "Are we done here, <em>Your Excellency</em>?"</p>
<p>He nodded slowly, probably wondering exactly when she'd lost every last scrap of respect for him. Not that she actually <em>had</em>, she'd never believed the sun shone out of his arse like James did, it wasn't like it was a surprise to <em>her</em> that he was just as willing to lie to protect himself as anyone. The sarcasm there was mostly aimed at James. She'd been honest when she said she had no patience at the moment. She was hurt and exhausted, and still needed to haul her arse back to the Cottage tonight, and on top of all that, she found herself plotting to keep her friends out of the hands of the law for the second time in two days. It'd be more of a surprise if her temper <em>weren't</em> a bit short at the moment. "Yes... I...believe we understand each other, Miss Black."</p>
<p>"I sincerely doubt that," she said, concealing a wince as she pushed herself back to her feet. "But I <em>do</em> look forward to that conversation on political philosophy. Perhaps you'll change my mind."</p>
<p>Dumbledore actually let her have the last word, slamming the door to his office behind herself.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A 'square Tim' is a bit of 1970s Hogwarts slang I made up to refer to someone who's afraid of breaking the rules or acting unconventional. A timorous square. Because Sirius/Aster finds it amusing to juxtapose the stilted, overly formal language the Blacks were raised to use in everyday conversation with muggle slang.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. The Fiery Death of the Masquerade</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aster woke painfully, pulling at her stitches as she flailed back to her human form and further bruising the hip Moony had tried to bite through her armour as she fell off the bed she'd been sharing with him, before she even got her eyes open.</p>
<p>"Ow."</p>
<p>She squinted through the haze of ambient magic and too-bright morning sun to see Evans, her hair a bright copper halo, lit by the glow of the window behind her. She was wearing a plain, black, muggle dress, and a concerned frown.</p>
<p>Right. Mister Snape's funeral. She'd forgotten. It seemed Snape's interview with the DLE had gone well enough. They hadn't kept him in holding, at least, and he hadn't seemed overly concerned at dinner last night. Quiet, but that wasn't terribly unusual for him. The funeral was apparently going ahead as scheduled. Evans was, of course, invited, and she was dragging Aster along...because reasons? Reasons that had seemed a lot more reasonable <em>yesterday</em>, before she'd been up half the night dealing with Moony.</p>
<p>"Aster? Are you okay?"</p>
<p>"Do I <em>look</em> okay?" She hadn't bothered trying to put clothes on again after Bella finished dressing her wounds (in both human <em>and</em> dog form — <em>so</em> many sutures, she'd lost count), so she knew for a fact every cut and bruise and bite-mark was on display. "How did you get in here?"</p>
<p>"Cissa let me in."</p>
<p>Of course she had. Aster <em>would</em> ask how Evans had known to ask Cissy where she was, and why Cissy had brought her here, but the answer to both questions was clearly because the gods wanted to watch Aster try to deal with muggles on three hours of sleep, and laugh as she cocked it up.</p>
<p>"Sir– <em>Aster</em>, Lily... What's going on? Where are we?" Aster rolled gingerly to her feet to find Remus huddled almost comically in the corner, holding a sheet over himself as though Evans had startled <em>him</em> almost as much as she had Aster. "What happened last night?" he asked more urgently, fear growing in his tone. "I– I think I remember..."</p>
<p>"Biting someone? Yeah, you did." The little colour remaining in his face in the wake of his transformation back to human form (a horribly painful process by all accounts), drained from it as she tore the metaphorical bandage from his eyes "Remember that ward gate Pete and the Royal Toerag put in at the Shack? Turns out they were even stupider about it than I thought. What else do you remember?"</p>
<p>"I– I— <em>What</em>?"</p>
<p>"What else do you remember?" she repeated, looking for her wand. Right. On top of her clothes. Which Bella had left neatly folded on a chair...after making no effort whatsoever to get the bloodstains out, probably because she thought she was funny. Bitch. She dragged her trousers on anyway, after throwing a couple of cleaning charms at them. Not perfect, but good enough.</p>
<p>"Er... We fought?"</p>
<p>"Obviously." She gestured at her injured self.</p>
<p>"Did you...punch me in the face?"</p>
<p>Aster giggled at his confused, affronted tone, entirely in spite of herself, and instantly regretted it. <em>Ow</em>. "No, that was Bella."</p>
<p>"Oh... That makes more sense," he muttered. Then, after a moment, his own words seemed to sink through his shock. "Wait, no, it doesn't. Aster. What <em>happened</em> last night?" he repeated.</p>
<p>"Our so-called friends let you out of the Shack, proceeded to panic. Potter was trapped there since he couldn't exactly go back to human form and follow you out through the tunnel without Moony maybe turning right back around and biting <em>him</em>. He sent Pete to get help, i.e. <em>me</em>, because I'm apparently just the person who fixes shite, now, which is kind of fucking absurd, but okay. I tracked you down, managed to get to Aunt Fanny's just <em>after</em> the nick of time. Sorry, mate. But I did manage to keep human casualties down to one. Two, if it turns out Dumbles is right and animagi aren't immune to the Curse in animal form, and telling the Dark to piss off over the summer made my luck as bad as yours."</p>
<p>Remus scrabbled to the edge of the bed, retching. Evans conjured a bowl for him, though there was nothing in him to bring up. "I– I— <em>God</em>, Sirius, I'm so sorry, I—"</p>
<p>"Don't worry about it, you didn't manage to turn me back in May, and I'm pretty sure I'm still immune. And if I'm not..." She shrugged. She didn't exactly want to make out like she didn't think being a werewolf was a <em>big fucking deal</em>, because Remus <em>clearly</em> suffered from his condition, but she was pretty fucking sure she'd do better as a werewolf than he ever had. Plus, she was betting it hurt a lot less to transform into a wolf if one was already dog-shaped. "I'll deal. Don't worry about it, I'm not," she assured him, wondering how she was going to get her shirt back on without tearing her stitches. Bending over had been difficult enough, she didn't think raising her arms above her shoulders was happening.</p>
<p>"I am," Evans interjected, glaring at her, presumably for her blatant lack of concern for herself.</p>
<p>Aster raised an eyebrow at her. "Going soft, Evans? Worrying won't change a damn thing, you know. Either I caught it, or I didn't."</p>
<p>"Not <em>that</em>, you self-absorbed twit. Remus! What's going to happen to him, now?" she asked, sitting to lay a comforting hand on his back. He flinched away from her touch, head hanging in shame.</p>
<p>"Oh, well, his life is pretty much over."</p>
<p>Remus whimpered, shoulders shaking.</p>
<p>"Be more of an arse, why don't you, Aster!"</p>
<p>"I've been explicitly told that pitying Remy for his furry little problem just makes everything worse," she defended herself. Well, <em>Pete</em> had been told that his pity wasn't wanted, right in front of Aster. She assumed it applied to her, too. She limped over to the wardrobe. She wasn't sure who'd been the last person to stay here for any extended period of time, but clothing tended to just sort of...migrate to these ancillary properties, elves moving around pieces no longer favoured by the members of the House who had commissioned them. Remus was a tall bugger, but there was probably <em>something</em> he could cover his naked arse with long enough to get to Ancient House, if not anything he ought to be seen wearing in public. "And drawing bad news out just makes it harder to get through, everyone knows that."</p>
<p>"Is the concept of <em>nuance</em> completely lost on you? Show some fucking compassion, Black!"</p>
<p>"I'd rather focus on mitigating the consequences of Potter's idiocy, if that's okay with you," Aster snapped, comprehensively distracted from her mission. "Remus, I'm sorry. You can't go back to the school, and you can't go home. Your life as an honest, upstanding citizen is over. It's not your fault, no one in their right mind would say that it is, but our country is run by a horde of congenital imbeciles, so you're a fugitive now."</p>
<p>"I– I have to turn myself in," Remus stuttered, his eyes growing wet.</p>
<p>"Don't be dense, Remus."</p>
<p>"No, I– I ruined some poor person's life, unless— I didn't...didn't <em>kill </em>them, did I?" he sounded, Aster thought, as though he couldn't decide whether that would be better or worse.</p>
<p>"Nah, she was still alive when her date apparated her away, I'm sure she's fine."</p>
<p>"She's not <em>fine</em>, Siri– Aster! I <em>turned her into a bloody werewolf!</em> I might've turned <em>you!</em> I– I never should have come to Hogwarts, I— What's going to happen to Dumbledore? He— I– I <em>have</em> to turn myself in," he repeated, somewhat hysterically.</p>
<p>"You didn't turn her on purpose, and like I said, I'm pretty sure I'm fine, and if I'm not, it's my own stupid fault for going and picking a fight with a fucking werewolf. Dumbledore will <em>also</em> be fine, he's going to blame the Death Eaters for sabotaging your wards as a favour to Greyback, or something. And even if none of that were true, turning yourself in would be just as pointless as worrying. You think your mum wants to see you executed?"</p>
<p>The tears which had been threatening to fall spilled over. "I— No, of course not, but—"</p>
<p>"Aster's right," Evans said firmly. "Even <em>Sev</em> doesn't hold <em>you</em> responsible for your actions on the full moon. Turning yourself in wouldn't solve anything."</p>
<p>"I— He <em>told</em> you?" Remus said (as though she couldn't have easily put together that he <em>was</em> a werewolf, at least, from their conversation over the past five minutes anyway), looking at her askance, as though just noticing that she wasn't shunning him for being Cursed, but still sitting calmly on the bed beside him. "But Dumbledore said he promised not to!"</p>
<p>Evans shrugged. "Sev's very clever. I'm sure he didn't break whatever vow he actually made. That's not the point. Aster, what happened after you found Remus?"</p>
<p>"Oh, well, I held him up until Bella got there to knock him about a bit. I swear, she makes <em>everything</em> look easy, it's absurd. But anyway, she had a good time playing with Moony until Cissy showed up to Imperius you, Remy, and force you to sleep."</p>
<p>"I— Is <em>that</em> what that was?"</p>
<p>"What what was?"</p>
<p>"I don't know, I just... It was like the Wolf was suddenly...satisfied. Content. Er...maybe kind of...floaty? That's the last thing I remember, but it was <em>really</em> weird."</p>
<p>Aster nodded. "Yeah, that's the Imperius. Very pleasant. Very evil. Just as effective against werewolves as it is against anything else with a brain, apparently. After Cissy laid you out, Bella and I dragged your sorry arse here — we're at the Cottage, just on Buttercup Court — and I went back to school to talk to Dumbles. He's going to blame Greyback, so he'll be fine, like I said, we just need to get <em>you</em> somewhere safe. Which means, unfortunately, that you're going to have to actually put up with Greyback for a couple of months—"</p>
<p>That provoked another hysterical outburst. "<em>WHAT?!</em> I'm not— <em>No!</em> I— He's the sick freak who turned me in the first place, I can't—"</p>
<p>"Just for a month or two, so the D.R.C.C. has time to work out you're <em>not</em> hiding with Starlight. Then you can actually go hide with Starlight. Their leader is this little old werewolf granny called Morgen. She's great, takes no shite from anyone. She'll love you. Come on, get dressed," she said, throwing a robe at him. It was going to be <em>very</em> short, but beggars and choosers and all. It would at least keep him from scorching anything important if he stumbled in the floo. "I want to get the <em>threatening the alpha werewolf</em> part of my day over with before he recovers from the Change."</p>
<p>"Threatening the alpha werewolf?" Evans repeated.</p>
<p>"Um, yes? The Pack probably isn't going to like Remus much. Generally speaking, they're not the sort of blokes who'd be shedding tears over accidentally turning someone—"</p>
<p>"Sorry we can't all be so bloody <em>casual</em> about <em>completely ruining our lives</em>, Sirius! Not to mention <em>someone else's!</em>"</p>
<p>"Er...he has a point. Most people don't...move on, as quickly as you do."</p>
<p>"I'm aware of that, Evans, thanks very much. That doesn't change the fact that the Pack are overwhelmingly macho arseholes who are going to peg Remy for a square Tim in about two seconds flat. I'm going to make sure they know this is just temporary, and if anyone gives him shite over being a wet fucking sop who hasn't quite come to terms with his new reality yet, I'll stab them in the eye."</p>
<p>Evans snorted. "Er...somehow I don't think they'll believe you."</p>
<p>"Bella would do it," Aster pointed out, giving her a slightly demented grin. "And even if they don't, macho arseholes, remember? Even if they think I'm just precious thinking I could actually pull it off, like Madam Puddifoot's yappy little terrier threatening Padfoot, they'll appreciate that I'd try. Sure it'll completely undermine Remus's reputation with them, but they wouldn't find him terribly impressive anyway. Macho, you are not, my friend," she informed him, putting on an overly-conciliatory tone.</p>
<p>He flipped her off, which as far as she was concerned, was progress, though he had to pause in his attempt to struggle into the robes without dropping the sheet and allowing Evans to see his skinny, scarred chest...had she been looking in his direction, which she wasn't.</p>
<p>"Besides, if we head to Ancient House, I can steal something from Bella to wear to the funeral. And there's no chocolate here." Probably no food at all. Again, no idea when someone actually stayed here last.</p>
<p>"You're still planning on coming?"</p>
<p>"I did say that I would." <em>Oh!</em> She used her knife to slice straight down the midline of her shirt, pulled it on like a waistcoat and spelled it back together. Perfect!</p>
<p>"But...what about Remus?"</p>
<p>Aster raised an eyebrow at the despondent werewolf. "Want to come to a muggle funeral, Remy? It'll be a — what do you call it? — a <em>cultural experience</em>."</p>
<p>"Piss off, Sirius. Aster, <em>damn</em> it!"</p>
<p>"Eh, it's fine. I don't mind when <em>you</em> call me Sirius. I know you're trying, and you've had a difficult shock. Exceptions must be made," she added in her poshest tone, giving him a patronising smile, which split into an actual grin as he scowled at her.</p>
<p>"Lily, will you hit her for me?"</p>
<p>"What, biting me half a dozen times wasn't enough for you? Why are all my friends such cruel bastards?"</p>
<p>Remus winced. "Too soon, Aster."</p>
<p>"Sorry." She shrugged. "It's pretty widely recognised that I make a shite addition to a self-pitying sulk," she explained to Evans. "I'm bad at sympathy, you see. Comes of not having been hugged enough as a child, probably. Clarence will look after him." She was pretty sure she'd seen Evans talking to Clarence at one point, shortly after the Death Eater trainees started showing up for practice and joining her in her quest to score a second point on Bella. Which hadn't actually helped much, but at least meant she wasn't the <em>only</em> person on the field being made to look completely incompetent. "You'll like Clarence," she told Remus. "He's the nicest werewolf I know. Including your ever-so-charming self. <em>Will you hit her for me</em>, honestly!" She clicked her tongue, shaking her head in a parody of disapproval, but dropped the act after a second or two. She wasn't really feeling the performative energy today. "Come on, floo's downstairs."</p>
<p>Breakfast went pretty much as she'd expected. She led Evans and the very sorry-looking Remus to the dining room the Pack was occupying, stalked over to Greyback at the head of the table, and snagged a sausage off his plate to waggle in his face (between bites) as she laid out what was what, like shaking a finger at him but deliberately more offensive, because one simply didn't touch a bloke's sausage without permission and get away with it. Greyback just let it happen with an exhausted, bemused expression, while Bella, at the other end of the table — still dressed in white, covered in mud, with a leaf in her hair — grinned proudly at her baby cousin, all grown up and threatening werewolves.</p>
<p>The only thing he seemed to have to say for himself was, "I do not think I like having two of you around," directed at Bella. "It is...disconcerting."</p>
<p>Which did, at least, argue that he would take her threat of potential eye-stabbing seriously. A woman Aster didn't recognise, probably because she was too old to be a warrior, rose to lead Remus to an empty seat and ply him with chocolate and bacon, and Aster grabbed an orange to dissect while she raided Bella's closet.</p>
<p>(After a quick stop at the nearest toilet to wash her hands, because all <em>Bella</em> had to say about any of this was, "If you get grease stains on my clothes, <em>I'll</em> stab <em>you</em> in the eye, Aster.")</p>
<p>She apparated to the clearing by the river in Cokeworth rather than go through Evans's awful adder stone again, and they managed to catch up with Snape and his mother with <em>plenty</em> of time to stand around awkwardly while Eileen (who was clearly embarrassed to be seen by a Black in her current circumstances, never mind that Aster wasn't really in a position to judge) grew progressively more drunk (obviously so before ten o'clock) and about half of the (very) few mourners who had nowhere better to be at midmorning on a Sunday (such as asleep) quickly paid their respects to the (faintly whiffy, very dead-looking) corpse and skulked off.</p>
<p>Evans's family came, probably because Evans had bullied them into it, or possibly just for the opportunity to sneer at the even less fortunate (Aster <em>really</em> didn't like Evans's sister). She and Evans sat with the three of them while a priest of some sort (presumably Christian of one stripe or another) droned on about God and redemption in such a way as to imply he had no faith whatsoever that Tobias Snape would be getting into the Kingdom of Heaven, but there was still a chance for the rest of the good-for-nothing layabouts sitting before him, and this was an excellent opportunity for them to contemplate the state of their own souls, if they'd rather not think about Tobias Snape. (And who could blame them if they didn't want to think about that lazy, abusive drunk? ...Not that the priest actually called him that in so many words, but.)</p>
<p>Snape and three other blokes who shared his nose, presumably somehow related to the deceased — though Aster had managed to avoid being introduced to them by spending the better part of the awkward pre-ceremony mingling examining the architecture and decorations of the muggle church — carried the casket out to the churchyard, and it was lowered into a hole in the ground with a few more ritual words and prayers and such. Aster squirmed watching it. She knew this was a thing people did, burying their dead. But it just seemed...disrespectful, leaving the body to rot. Yes, she'd heard all the justifications about giving back to the Earth and furthering the cycle of life by feeding worms and trees and shite, but it still made her cringe a bit. And they left before they even saw the body properly buried! How did they know someone didn't just come along and snatch it as soon as the mourners cleared off?</p>
<p>And then they'd been released to go on with their lives, have lunch, or get smashed, or whatever. Eileen was already three sheets to the wind, so Snape announced that he was going to take her home before taking Missus Evans up on her offer to have him over for the meal. (An offer which Mister Evans didn't look entirely supportive of, but it would be churlish to withdraw an offer of solace to a boy whose father had just been laid in the ground...even if that boy was Snape, and he was unquestionably better off with said father feeding the worms.)</p>
<p>Which meant that Aster was left alone with the Evanses, and this time, she didn't have the option of barging in and taking over the conversation without any opposition at all because everyone else was in shock. Even if she <em>had</em> still had the element of surprise on her side, she didn't have the energy to pull that sort of thing off today, anyway. The tears in her side weren't that bad, all things considered, as long as she didn't turn too quickly. But they'd been standing for what felt like <em>hours</em>, and after walking back to the Evanses' house from the little churchyard, her calf was killing her.</p>
<p>"So, what did you think of the ceremony, Asteria, dear?" Missus Evans asked, probably trying to be polite and include her in the conversation, where she'd really just like to sit down and concentrate on ignoring the existence of her left leg.</p>
<p>"What's that? Oh, the ceremony? Well..."</p>
<p>"Not quite what you're used to, I imagine?" she suggested.</p>
<p>"Ah, no, not really. We cremate our dead. And we always do it at night. We, my family, not we, mages in general. Other Houses have their own traditions."</p>
<p>"Really?" Evans asked. "I didn't know that. Is there any particular reason? I mean, Marley's family have normal burials. Amy's, too."</p>
<p>"The McKinnons bury their dead in consecrated ground and consign their remains to the Earth once and forever, but I'm <em>pretty sure</em> they stick around to actually see them buried, do some ritual afterward to get a fruit tree growing." She'd been to their family cemetery grove before, it was a very pretty little orchard of apples and pears and cherries, which grew larger and more ancient the further into it one walked. The space between the memorial trees was filled with grass and wildflowers and ivy, but no natural trees, giving it an unnaturally <em>cultivated</em> feel.</p>
<p>"Oh! That sounds nice, doesn't it, dear!" Missus Evans said. Her husband nodded politely.</p>
<p>Aster gave a noncommittal hum. She preferred the Potters' memorial grove, personally. They did something very similar, but using the wand of the deceased as the 'seed' so there were a lot more types of trees, and the whole place felt much more strongly magical. "And I'm pretty sure the Boneses exhume their dead and move the bones to an ossuary after a year or three." She <em>hadn't</em> been <em>there</em> — its location was a secret, to stop anyone desecrating it in any way — but she knew they had a serious ancestor cult going back probably millennia, it wasn't really a secret that was where their name came from. "Black cremations are part of that whole fire in the dark thing. You know, releasing the soul to take its place among the stars, one with the universe, everything and nothing. And also, you know, common sense. No one wants someone digging up their mum's corpse and reanimating it to kill them, do they?"</p>
<p>"<em>What?</em>" Mister Evans exclaimed. "That's just..."</p>
<p>"Disgusting?" Petunia suggested.</p>
<p>"<em>Petunia</em>," her mother chided her, though she looked almost as horrified as her husband and daughter. "Does that sort of thing happen...<em>often</em>?"</p>
<p>Aster snorted. "No, not <em>often</em>, but I'm pretty sure it really only has to happen <em>once </em>before it starts seeming like a good idea not to leave dead people lying around. My family are not nice people, Missus Evans. Evil, devil-worshipping crazy people, remember? And they have, or have had historically, loads of enemies who are <em>nearly</em> as mad and evil as they are. It's practically tradition, us picking fights with powerful, dangerous people. And there are all <em>kinds</em> of horrible things you can do with a corpse. Burning them is safer." That kind of killed the conversation, as no one else seemed to have anything to say in response, so after a few seconds of awkward silence, she offered, "I get the impression Mister Snape wasn't well liked."</p>
<p>"Well, I don't like to speak ill of the dead..." Missus Evans said, but her husband had no such compunctions.</p>
<p>"Toby Snape was a vile man. His wife and son will be better off without him, and no one else will mourn his loss, either. Hasn't done a decent day's work since Sixty-Three, living off his brothers' charity and the kindness of his neighbors. Much undeserved, if you ask me."</p>
<p>"Now, Fred, it wasn't <em>his</em> fault the mill shut down. There was hardly a job for him to take, thirteen years ago."</p>
<p>"The mill weren't the <em>only </em>work to be had around here, Mary. Not then and <em>certainly</em> not since. And even if it were, he and that fussy little shrew wasted everything they were ever given. Drank it all away when they could've at least <em>tried</em> to better their lot." He snorted. "Still can't <em>believe</em> the airs she used to give herself, d'you remember, Mare? Trying to sound all <em>posh</em> and looking down her nose at the rest of us?"</p>
<p>Aster winced at that, enough to catch Petunia's eye. "Oh, does that hit a bit close to home, <em>Asteria</em>?"</p>
<p>"I suppose you think that was subtle, Petunia," Aster said sweetly. "But then I suppose you also think the cut of that blouse is subtle, so I can't honestly say I'm surprised." Petunia gasped as though Aster had slapped her, drawing her mother's attention to the neckline beneath her black shawl, which was <em>awfully</em> risque for a funeral. Even a muggle funeral. "Pity your mind isn't as quick as your tongue. It does hit a bit close to home, however. Not for the reasons you suppose, but Eileen was, in another life, rather well off. Not one of my set, you understand, but her younger brother is a close companion to several of my elder cousins. The family was <em>devastated</em> when she refused the marriage her father arranged for her and ran off to make her way alone. I can only imagine how much more they would suffer, knowing that <em>this</em> is the state to which she's been reduced over the past two decades."</p>
<p>Petunia's eyes narrowed as she tried to decide whether that had been a dig at the Evans's circumstances, or just the Snapes'. (The former. If it were the latter, Aster would have said <em>that</em>.) Before she could work it out, however, a bell chimed loudly. "I'll get it," she volunteered, hurrying to reach the front door before her mother could do so.</p>
<p>She opened it to reveal a large man in a poorly tailored suit. Not truly <em>fat</em>, there was obviously quite a lot of muscle there, too, but not what Aster would consider <em>athletic</em>. He was armed with a bouquet, which he offered to Petunia with a jerky little bow. Someone had at least <em>seen</em> a proper gentleman greet a lady before, even if he was obviously uncomfortable attempting to play that role himself. "Morning, Pet."</p>
<p>"Vernon! What a lovely surprise!" she exclaimed, explaining the blouse and fooling no one as to the expectedness of this visit as she seized his arm to lead him a bit further into the room. "Mummy, Daddy, look who decided to drop by!"</p>
<p>"Hello, Mister Evans. Missus Evans. Lily," he said dutifully, giving Aster a doubtful look, probably wondering whether he was supposed to greet her, and if so, how, since he had no idea who she was.</p>
<p>Petunia clearly didn't mind if he ignored her entirely, as she eschewed an introduction in favour of asking, "What brings you here, today, Vernon, love?"</p>
<p>Apparently that was his cue. "Er... Yes. I...happened to be in the neighborhood, and thought you...might like to join me for lunch. Darling." Aster didn't think she'd ever heard a more stilted invitation. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.</p>
<p>"Oh, well, I suppose it's rather last minute, but you don't mind, do you, Mum? I mean, I've already offered my condolences, so..."</p>
<p>Missus Evans's eyes tipped up to the ceiling for a moment, almost but not quite rolling them at her elder daughter's clear ploy to escape this awkwardness. Honestly, Aster almost had to admire her foresight in arranging an excuse to leave. "I suppose not, dear."</p>
<p>"Oh, Sev will be just <em>shattered</em> to find we won't be graced with the pleasure of your company this afternoon, Petunia," Evans said drily. "But I'm sure he'll soldier on. Keep a stiff upper lip in the face of tragedy, and all that."</p>
<p>Aster snorted. Snape disliked Petunia even more than Aster did. She, at least, could have fun making digs at the older girl's pretentions. Snape didn't really have the status to do the same. "Aster Black," she introduced herself, since no one else seemed inclined to do so.</p>
<p>"Er...Dursley," he offered, awkwardly, after looking to his fiancee for permission, which that glare most certainly <em>wasn't</em> granting, but what was he supposed to do? Snub this random stranger right in front of his future parents-in-law? "Vernon Dursley."</p>
<p>"Lovely to meet you, Mister Dursley. Petunia talks about you all the time. I understand you work for a company that produces drills?"</p>
<p>Dursley's chest puffed with pride, even as Petunia scowled at her. "Come on, Vernon, we have a reservation, don't we?" she asked rhetorically, giving the lie to her earlier "surprise" (as though anyone had believed it to begin with).</p>
<p>She couldn't actually be physically pulling him out of the room, he was at least twice her size, but he let her lead him toward the door anyway, despite his obvious reluctance to leave. Aster was fairly certain she heard him say, "But, Pet, we wouldn't want to be <em>rude</em>," but she couldn't be sure, because Petunia was also speaking, blathering farewells to her parents (and notably <em>not</em> to Lily or Aster). And a few seconds later, the door slammed behind them.</p>
<p>"Well," Aster said, in the embarrassed silence which followed. "I must say, your future son-in-law does seem quite charming. And he clearly dotes upon Petunia. I'm sure she'll be <em>very</em> happy with him."</p>
<p>Evans, who clearly understood that she <em>wasn't</em> saying that <em>Petunia</em> was charming, or that Dursley would be happy with <em>her</em>, giggled. "You can stop now."</p>
<p>"Stop? Why, I'm sure I couldn't possibly say what you might mean to suggest of me, Asphodel."</p>
<p>"<em>Asphodel?</em>" Mister Evans repeated, seizing on the chance to change the subject away from his elder daughter's embarrassing behaviour.</p>
<p>Oops. "No offence intended, sir, but Lily is almost always a diminutive in our world. Short for Lilian and Lilith, or other flowers like Amaryllis and Asphodel, which sounds far more like a proper given name to magical ears. I was just having a bit of fun at your absent daughter's expense, which was every bit as unsubtle as I accused her of being earlier. For that, I apologise."</p>
<p>"But not for mocking Petunia in the first place," Evans added firmly, stomping on that particular conversational subtlety as well. "You can't deny she was being rude first."</p>
<p>Missus Evans sighed. "I wouldn't dream of it, Lily. No point denying the blatantly obvious, after all."</p>
<p>Mister Evans, though, refused to be deterred from his ploy to change the subject. "No offence taken, Asteria. I was just wondering if that was Lily's proper name. The one Matilde gave her, I mean."</p>
<p>Evans's eyes flicked between her parents. "You told them," she said flatly.</p>
<p>Her mother nodded. "Not Petunia, but yes, I did tell your father. It... It was time. And no, Fred, Matilde called her Irene."</p>
<p>There was a brief, considering pause, and then— "Thom and Bella call me Asphodel," Evans volunteered.</p>
<p>Aster's head snapped around, pulling painfully at a cut on her shoulder (<em>shite, I hope that doesn't start bleeding on me...</em>), her eyes growing wide. <em>What the hell are you thinking, Evans?!</em></p>
<p>"Thom and Bella?" her mother asked, blissfully oblivious.</p>
<p>"Ev— Lily!" Aster hissed. "Are you sure you want to—"</p>
<p>A light knock on the door cut her off. Snape, probably. "Would you mind getting the door, Aster?" Evans suggested.</p>
<p>Aster glared at her. She wasn't about to be distracted that easily. <em>SNAPE, GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE TWO SECONDS AGO, EVANS IS TALKING CRAZY,</em> she thought, as loudly as possible. Evans raised an eyebrow over Aster's complete lack of response to her request, even as he let himself in. He sounded genuinely concerned as he said, "Sorry, Mister and Missus Evans, I hope you don't mind, I know you were expecting me, so—"</p>
<p>"No, no, it's fine, Severus. Come in. Lily was just telling us about Thom and Bella?"</p>
<p>Snape's eyes narrowed at Evans, even as he said levelly, "Oh. Um. Why?"</p>
<p>"Well, they <em>are</em> my parents, Sev. They have a right to know I'm being adopted."</p>
<p>"Woah, now, hold the phone!" Mister Evans exclaimed, in a tone which suggested he would much have preferred to use stronger explicatives. "<em>Adopted?</em> Who are these people, poppet?"</p>
<p>"My biological father and his lady," Evans said calmly, as though she couldn't imagine that this would be in any way problematic. Indeed, she went on to explain, "They're not actually married, but cohabitation isn't regarded quite the same in Magical Britain, and they've been together for <em>years</em>," as though the Dark Lord's fucking <em>marital status</em> was more important than the fact that he and Bella had raped her biological <em>mother</em>, and then tortured her until her brain melted a couple of years later.</p>
<p>"Your biological— How on earth did you <em>find</em> him? Is he a doctor? A healer, I mean?" Oh, wait, Missus Evans was still holding out for the incredibly unlikely hospital romance option, wasn't she. Aster had forgotten she hadn't been entirely convinced by the Death Eater Rape Baby Theory.</p>
<p>"Not exactly," she volunteered, trying desperately to avoid the catastrophe she could see looming in Evans's utter lack of concern. "He's a mind mage. They sometimes help people who have traumatic memory loss and such remember who they are. There's actually a bit of a family resemblance between them, I can't believe I didn't see it before. The Bella Lily mentioned is my cousin Bella, the activist? So de Mort's been around longer than I can remember."</p>
<p>"That's quite a coincidence, isn't it," Mister Evans said, sounding rather suspicious about the whole thing.</p>
<p>Evans shrugged. "Not so much as you might think. Magical Britain's kind of tiny, and Aster's kind of related to <em>everyone</em>. Though you have to remind me to tell Bella you described her as a performance artist and non-human rights advocate with a straight face. I keep forgetting..."</p>
<p>"Lily..." Snape said warily, "I thought we agreed, about...smoothing over awkward conversations."</p>
<p>"We did, yes. I'm not expecting you to," she said, still <em>far</em> too calmly. Almost eerily so.</p>
<p>...Right, they were here for a bloody <em>funeral ritual</em>, Aster probably should have spotted that as a potential problem. Probably <em>would</em> have, if she weren't distracted by the pain of her wounds and kind of exhausted from fighting Moony and then getting about half a night's sleep. And that was a generous estimate. Well, <em>maybe</em> not, it'd been kind of a sorry excuse for a ritual, even by muggle standards. <em>She</em> certainly hadn't felt any magic in the air, but— "Evans, if you don't get ahold of yourself, I swear on the Styx, I will <em>actually</em> break your finger this time."</p>
<p>Evans snorted, but scooted a bit down the sofa, anyway, far enough Aster wouldn't be able to grab her hand without moving too quickly and hurting herself, and close enough to Snape that he had to lift his left arm to rest on the back of the sofa to avoid knocking elbows with her. "I'm fine, Aster," she said, over her parents' objections to Aster's threat. "And I appreciate you trying to cover for me, here, but I'm <em>so</em> sick of pretending to be normal. And now I know who I really am, I don't <em>have</em> to, any more than I have to keep being Prefect Evans. And maybe I think you had it right, earlier, with Remus. It's better to just...end it quickly."</p>
<p>"Lily, what are you talking about?" Missus Evans asked, sounding slightly anxious. Understandably so, her daughter was talking like a crazy person.</p>
<p>"Mind healers do exist. And Thom is a mind mage. But he's not a healer. He's the Dark Lord. The one Aunt Matilde was trying to expose. And, well, I'm sure Bella would claim that torture and murder are art-forms—" Aster had been thinking more of watching her fight, when she'd said <em>performance artist</em>, but she wasn't wrong. "—and she does support non-human rights, but warrior queen is more accurate. Like a modern-day Boudica." That...actually wasn't a bad comparison. Though the muggles, of course, looked <em>horrified</em>. "Aster was right about Matilde being sexually assaulted, Thom used her as a ritual sacrifice. Bella was supposed to kill her after, but her goddess told her not to, apparently because Death wanted me to exist so that I can kill Thom if he doesn't stop telling people he's immortal. Which seems like extreme lengths to go to when Persephone <em>could</em> have just told him to knock it off herself, but." She shrugged. "Eternity's probably kind of boring when you're <em>everything</em>. I imagine she does this sort of thing a lot just to entertain herself."</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes, put that in the most disturbing way possible, why don't you...</em>
</p>
<p>Mister Evans just kind of blinked at his daughter, too shocked by...all of that to say anything. Missus Evans, knowing more about magic, and everything they'd talked about last time Aster had visited — religion and stuff — had enough context she wasn't too overwhelmed to take in the important point here, which was, "You're telling me you want to be adopted by the man who raped your biological mother — my <em>sister</em> — because— Why? because you don't want to have to pretend to be <em>normal</em> anymore?! Do you want so badly to pretend you never had anything to do with our world?!"</p>
<p>"Well, no, I'm being adopted by Bella, actually."</p>
<p>"That <em>doesn't make it better, </em>Lily!"</p>
<p>Evans just shrugged. "I didn't say it does. And I'd never try to pretend I was raised magical." Though she would (and did) <em>act</em> like it, and let people draw their own assumptions. "I'm not ashamed of you, or whatever lies Petunia's been telling you to make herself feel better about <em>not</em> being a witch. I'm just tired of having to pretend that I'm the kind of person who actually cares that Thom raped Matilde. It was seventeen years ago, I never knew her, and if he hadn't, I <em>wouldn't exist</em>. Obviously I don't <em>condone</em> that sort of behaviour, but given the circumstances, I can't really complain, can I?"</p>
<p>For a long moment, both of Evans's parents just stared at her aghast. Snape glared at her, in a way that made Aster suspect, <em>Hey, are you two having secret mindreading conversations without me?</em></p>
<p>But he didn't answer. And Mister Evans broke the moment before she could ask again, more loudly and annoyingly. "No," he said, all absent and shocked.</p>
<p>Evans blinked at him, obviously surprised. "I'm glad you agree?" Clearly she hadn't expected him to.</p>
<p>"What? Not— No, you are not being adopted by this man! I'm putting my foot down, young lady! My answer is <em>no</em>, it's out of the question!"</p>
<p>"Oh. Well, <em>this</em> is awkward..." (Aster snorted — had she really thought it wouldn't be?) "I wasn't really <em>asking...</em>"</p>
<p>"You don't want to <em>pretend</em> to be the sort of person who cares that– that <em>vile</em> man, a violent, evil maniac, by your own admission—" That had been <em>Aster's</em> description of Lord Sparklebum, actually, last time they visited, but Evans hadn't contested the characterisation.</p>
<p>"That was before I actually met him," she inserted, a comment her mother quite reasonably ignored.</p>
<p>"—<em>raped</em> my sister! Your mother! And this– this <em>woman</em>, she <em>helped?</em> She tried to <em>murder</em> her?!"</p>
<p>"She was about nine years old, at the time," Aster volunteered. "And she didn't actually try to murder Matilde, she decided not to do it. So I think the blame for that one lies firmly on de Mort."</p>
<p>"<em>You</em> can just– just bite your lying tongue, young lady!" Missus Evans snapped. Which was...fair. Aster had told her quite a few untruthful things in the few short hours they'd spoken, and even more which were laughably misleading.</p>
<p>But Aster wasn't really in the mood for this shite today. "With all possible respect, Missus Evans, no. Evans, what the fuck are you playing at? <em>Please</em> tell me you didn't drag me out of bed after spending half the bloody night fighting a fucking werewolf, just to make Eileen Snape more uncomfortable at her husband's funeral and witness you burning your relationship with your parents to the ground. <em>Please</em>."</p>
<p>Evans's eyes narrowed. "I did tell you you didn't have to come. And Eileen's almost as bad as Tobias was. Making her feel a bit ashamed about her life choices because you happen to know how they turned out isn't <em>quite</em> the same as making her realise that she's made her son's life a living hell, and no, I didn't actually realise that was a potential consequence until I was introducing you, but I'm <em>not</em> going to apologise for taking advantage of it when I <em>did</em> realise it."</p>
<p><em>Ha!</em> Aster had <em>known</em> that Evans had introduced her as Bellatrix Asteria for a reason!</p>
<p>"Lily!" her mother exclaimed. "I did <em>not</em> raise you to kick a poor woman who's already down!"</p>
<p>"You <em>did</em> raise me to stand up for my friends, though!"</p>
<p>Snape rolled his eyes at Evans behind her back. "Don't worry about it, Missus Evans. I doubt my mother will remember any part of today very clearly after she sleeps it off."</p>
<p>"Can we please focus on my daughter being adopted by the leaders of some– some death cult mumbo jumbo?!" Mister Evans asked, glowering at the lot of them.</p>
<p>Evans gave him an exasperated sigh. "They're not a <em>death cult</em>. They don't call <em>themselves</em> the Death Eaters." They did, actually, the younger ones at least. But Evans was right that the press had originally coined the name, based on the skull-and-snake symbol that was de Mort's sigil. (Technically de Mort <em>and</em> Bella's sigil, but he'd started using it when she was still a kid, and most people didn't know that Viper was his pet name for her.) "They're more like...oh, I don't know, a more militant I.R.A.. Thom likes to say there are 'irreconcilable philosophical differences' between the Knights of Walpurgis and the British governing bodies."</p>
<p>"Yes, such as, the Ministry takes a dim view of getting your rocks off by torturing people," Aster snarked. "De Mort's a charming fucking bastard," she informed the Evanses, "and disarmingly sparkly. But he's definitely still an evil git."</p>
<p>"Whose side are you on, Aster?" Evans asked, glaring at her.</p>
<p>"<em>Not</em> de Mort's! And, well, I might've made it a bit too clear last night that I'm not about to just blindly follow Dumbles, either, so I may have to start my own side. Or go full class-traitor and join the populists, or something."</p>
<p>"She meant in this conversation, Black," Snape clarified.</p>
<p>"Oh, well then, no one's. You did stomp all over the lovely facsimile of upstanding citizenship and sanity and social acceptability I so neatly constructed for you, and wrangled me into playing stupid Society games where I quite reasonably expected not to encounter any political dragonshite at all, on three hours of sleep, while literally being held together by conjured thread—" <em>Aster</em> couldn't conjure <em>anything</em> and expect it to last more than a week, but Bella insisted that she knew what she was doing, and this way, she wouldn't have to worry about taking the sutures <em>out</em>, the conjuration would just unravel on its own around the time she <em>ought</em> to take them out. "—because fighting werewolves is the <em>worst</em>, so yes, Evans, I am a bit put out with you at the moment, but <em>you</em> were the one who decided that we were going to be <em>honest</em> now, so fuck it! De Mort <em>is</em> an evil git, which fact I have no compunction about sharing with literally anyone — he's well aware of my opinion of him — but especially with people who are likely never going to meet him, and whose opinions are completely irrelevant to you, him, and literally anyone who matters, because we all know you're only telling them you're being adopted as a courtesy, and maybe so you don't have to faff about with glamour charms if you ever come to visit them again!"</p>
<p>She had to stop there to catch her breath, which gave her ample opportunity to notice that there were now tears in Missus Evans's eyes, and Mister Evans looked very much like he'd like to punch Aster in the face, which she might actually deserve for saying he and his wife were completely irrelevant, but which she wasn't going to let him do even if he had the nerve to try, due to the aforementioned <em>literal stitches</em>. No, she had <em>zero</em> patience left for this nonsense.</p>
<p>"Maybe a little <em>less</em> honest, Black," Snape suggested.</p>
<p><em>All or nothing, Snape</em>, she thought back. <em>She's the one who said she wanted to pull the plaster off quickly.</em></p>
<p>"Is— Is that true?" Missus Evans asked, her voice shaking as she tried not to cry. (<em>Damn it.</em> Aster didn't <em>like</em> making people cry, and this was <em>twice</em> in <em>one day</em>, now...) "That we don't matter to you?"</p>
<p>Evans shot a venomous glare at Aster, who met it with a level, challenging stare. <em>Snape, if you're listening in, be a dear and tell Evans she's being a twat for me? </em>She's <em>the one who chose the course, I'm just keeping it.</em></p>
<p>She didn't know if he <em>did </em>— unlike de Mort, Snape didn't actually eavesdrop <em>inside</em> people's minds, and she couldn't really tell if he was paying attention to the thoughts she projected <em>out</em> or not — but after a brief, tense staring contest, Evans said, "No." Coldly. Grudgingly. As though she resented being forced into this position she'd <em>absolutely</em> chosen for herself, fucking bitch.</p>
<p>If it weren't for her tone, Aster might've thought she was going to back off, but as it was, she wasn't surprised that she continued after a beat, (intentionally) haltingly, as though trying to give the impression that this was just as difficult for her to say as it must be for them to hear.</p>
<p>"You matter. Of course you matter. You...you <em>raised</em> me. I don't... I don't want to hurt you. Of <em>course</em> I don't. But...there's <em>literally nothing</em> I can tell you about my life, anymore, that...wouldn't shatter the illusion. I've... I've <em>never</em> been the girl you raised me to be. Not <em>really</em>. I didn't— I <em>don't</em> feel it. Her. Whatever I'm supposed to, right now. Fuck, I'm not making sense." She paused for a moment. Aster genuinely wasn't sure whether this one was for effect, or if Evans was actually making up this little speech on the fly.</p>
<p>"No, you're not," her father agreed. "Are you feeling alright, Lily?" he asked, as though she might be acting mad because she had a fever or something.</p>
<p>"What? No— I mean, yes, Dad, I'm fine. I just don't know how to— Okay. You taught me to be honest, when I was little, right? Taught me right and wrong. And then you taught me how to act like a good person, showed me a hundred little ways that I was wrong. Or not <em>I</em> was wrong, but I was <em>doing</em> it wrong. Things I knew or felt or didn't feel, if I was honest about them...they were things I just shouldn't say. Because they hurt people. Or scared people."</p>
<p>Or manipulated people into feeling sorry for her, Aster thought, as Missus Evans's face crumpled into a self-recriminating frown. "Lily, honey, we never meant..."</p>
<p>"Mum, please. I'm not saying it was <em>bad</em>, or I <em>blame</em> you, or something. If anything, I'm grateful. Really. I needed to learn what was and wasn't socially acceptable, just like <em>any</em> little kid. How to at least <em>act</em> right, and all the things I shouldn't tell you, or anyone. And I did, and you thought I grew out of it. Because you also taught me that I shouldn't hurt people. And I don't <em>enjoy</em> hurting people, most of the time. I don't care if they <em>do</em> get hurt, not really. But you taught me that I should treat others like I'd want to be treated, and that everyone else thinks they're just as special and important as I think I am, so there's no reason what <em>I</em> want is inherently more important than what anyone else wants. That my <em>happiness</em> is no more inherently important than anyone else's."</p>
<p>From the look on Mister Evans's face, that wasn't the lesson she'd been meant to take away from whatever it was they'd actually told her, though Aster actually thought that was a pretty good fucking lesson. She should be taking notes on this shite, just in case she ever had the misfortune of having to raise a child. (She really hoped she didn't, she'd almost <em>certainly</em> fuck it up.)</p>
<p>"You taught me that hurting other people to get things I want isn't okay, so I try not to. I didn't tell Grandad Evans that I wasn't sad at Nana's funeral because I figured it would upset him more to know I didn't care than it would bother me to pretend that I did, and I didn't tell you that I don't miss you when I'm at school— Well, not after that first Christmas. I didn't realise how sad it would make you before that." She gave her mother a rueful grimace. "I think I did a <em>little</em> better with things that scare people. I didn't tell <em>anyone</em> that kitty-Nyx was dead when I found her, or that if someone was mean to me when I was little, I could hurt them just by wishing for it."</p>
<p>"Do I not count?" Snape interrupted. "Because I'm pretty sure I told you not to tell people those things."</p>
<p>"Yeah, well, you were magic too, so, no, you didn't count. I'm pretty sure I didn't tell you I tried to kill your father the summer after first year, wishing he'd get run over by a lorry."</p>
<p>"You tried to <em>murder</em> someone?! Lily!" Missus Evans exclaimed, clearly disapprovingly, kind of making the point about not telling people this shite, Aster thought. Also<em>, she didn't just </em>try<em>, Missus Evans...</em> (Snape might actually have caught that one, he gave a little cough on the other end of the sofa, as though trying to cover a laugh.)</p>
<p>"He was <em>being mean to Sev</em>, Mum!"</p>
<p>That time, Snape didn't manage to cover his laugh at all, just kind of snorted trying to stop it, and made an awkward, throat-clearing sort of non-apology when all eyes turned toward him.</p>
<p>"That is <em>not</em>—" Missus Evans began to object, but Snape had already started speaking. "I'm surprised you didn't try again when it didn't work the first time."</p>
<p>Evans grinned. "Yeah, well, I was absolutely <em>furious</em> he only broke his arm, but that <em>did</em> stop him taking the mickey out of you for the unforgivable offences of breathing wrong and looking at him funny, so I figured it was good enough. If he was meant to die then, he would've died. Since he didn't, he wasn't, and asking again would've just been annoying."</p>
<p>"Annoying?" Her mother repeated. "It would have been <em>annoying</em>? Annoying to <em>who?</em>"</p>
<p>Her father looked <em>far</em> more shaken. "Mare, honey? I think the more important point might be that she <em>tried to kill someone</em> for <em>being mean to her little friend!</em>"</p>
<p>"Death, Fate, Magic, whatever you want to call it. <em>God</em>, maybe? And this is <em>Tobias Snape</em> we're talking about, Daddy, he <em>definitely</em> deserved it. But I did know better than to tell anyone that, or oh, I don't know... That one of my proudest achievements is finding the <em>perfect</em> way to break Aster's relationship with her old best friend, for example." This she said with a slightly smug, wry smirk, which was just <em>begging</em> for a response.</p>
<p>"Oh, now you're just bragging," Aster accused her. "We both know you didn't have <em>nearly</em> enough control over that situation to go patting yourself on the back, even if it has worked out well for you. Doesn't count. And you're not as good at acting normal as you think you are, either. I had you pegged from the second week of classes as a soulless, manipulative bitch."</p>
<p>"You did <em>not,</em>" Evans pouted.</p>
<p>Aster smirked at her. "Did so. You were far too comfortable, where everyone else was anxious and uncertain, everything new and unfamiliar, even to the purebloods." Actually, she was still kind of bad at that. Her shoulders and face and voice were properly tense at the moment, as though she was genuinely concerned about her parents' reactions to the idea that she was only ever pretending to care, but her hands were folded quietly in her lap, and she hadn't put on even one anxious, uncomfortable fidget. And she'd relaxed into bantering here far too easily. (Her parents were taking the opportunity to have a vaguely panicked-looking exchange of whispers and horrified looks on the other side of the coffee table.) "You <em>tried</em> to fake it, but you were always half a second behind. And you spent <em>far</em> too much time sitting in corners pretending to read while actually watching the rest of us. I bet you used to practise faces in the mirror, too."</p>
<p>"Oh, shut up, I was good enough for the rest of our class, it's not <em>my</em> fault you're such a Slytherin."</p>
<p>"I hope you realise the irony in <em>you</em> calling <em>anyone else</em> a Slytherin, <em>Princess</em>." She...did know that Parseltongue was a Slytherin thing, right?</p>
<p>"Black, do shut up," Snape drawled. "You're both far too impulsive for Slytherin. And too easily distracted. Were you <em>going</em> somewhere with your little speech, Lily?"</p>
<p>"Hell, probably," she answered automatically, before adding, somewhat sheepishly, "Er...that's just a thing people say at school," as though <em>that</em> were the thing here her parents were likely to be upset about. "But I was, yes." She took a moment, presumably to recall what exactly she'd been trying to say. "Mum...Dad... You've taught me everything I know about being a good person. I appreciate that and I kind of feel like I owe it to you to try to live up to your expectations for all the work you put into raising me. I <em>respect</em> you. And I don't want to hurt you. I really, <em>really</em> don't. I've spent the past nine years bending over backward trying not to hurt you, hiding all the things I knew you didn't want to know about me. And as long as I <em>had</em> to, as long as there wasn't another option, I could do it, because what else <em>would </em>I do? Where would I <em>go</em>? But now there is, and I can't anymore, I just— It's <em>exhausting</em>, pretending all the time, and I thought it'd be better, with Aster, but it's actually harder to fake it when I spend more time <em>not</em> faking it, and I'm <em>tired</em>."</p>
<p>"Ah, yes," Missus Evans said, her eyes narrowing as they came back to the heart of the problem. "You're <em>tired</em>. Tired of, what was it? Pretending to be the kind of person who cares that <em>that man</em> raped your mother? Of pretending <em>not</em> to be the kind of person who <em>doesn't</em> care, who <em>wants</em> to claim that man and his– his <em>strumpet</em> as her family?!" Aster snorted at the idea of Bella being referred to as a <em>strumpet</em>, earning her a furious, red-eyed glare. "How can you, Lily? How can you <em>not care</em>? Explain it to me, because I just don't <em>get it!</em>"</p>
<p>"Welcome to my entire bloody life," Evans grumbled under her breath. But then she gave a frustrated sigh and at least <em>tried</em>. (Aster didn't envy her the task — <em>explain why you don't understand </em>questions were the <em>worst</em>.) "I don't love you." Her mother flinched at the hard, emotionless words. "I respect you and I'm <em>grateful</em> to you and I don't want to hurt you, but I don't...<em>feel</em> for you, any more than I do for any random stranger on the street.</p>
<p>"Aunt Matilde...isn't really real to me. Not like Sev and Aster, or even like you. She's just a <em>name</em>. And the people Thom and Bella hurt...obviously they shouldn't, it's not a good thing, I wouldn't do it myself, if they just invited me along to murder people for fun, or whatever," she said dismissively, as though that wasn't <em>exactly</em> the sort of thing Bella would think was a good family bonding activity. "But they're not even names, they're just...abstract ideas. And I know Thom and Bella are bad people, but they understand me, and I don't have to pretend to be a good, <em>normal</em> person around them — I don't have to <em>censor</em> myself — and I'm so, <em>so</em> tired of...of pretending to be something I'm not. You're my <em>family</em>, you shouldn't have to lie to your family.</p>
<p>"I shouldn't have to hesitate to tell you anything, wondering whether it will scare you or disgust you. I shouldn't have to ask Sev to make you forget arguments we've had—" Snape and both of the elder Evanses stiffened at that, though Evans didn't seem to notice. "—and I really, <em>really</em> shouldn't have had to think as hard as I did about whether it would be better to make you forget that I ever existed than to tell you the truth." Her parents' matching expressions of horror deepened, her mother's taking on a slightly more <em>ill</em> cast than her father's. "Which is that Thom and Bella aren't part of a death cult, but I actually am. Well, I'm a priestess of Death, there's not actually a <em>cult</em>, as such. And I approve of Thom's goals, even if I don't approve of his methods — Magical Britain is completely backward in a lot of ways — and Bella might be the single most interesting person to talk to that I've ever met, and being adopted by the House of Black is kind of like being adopted by royalty, I'd have to be <em>completely insane</em> to turn down the offer.</p>
<p>"And there are only two people in the world whose opinions <em>actually matter</em> to me, so yes, Aster was right, I <em>am</em> just telling you as a courtesy, because I think you deserve to know, and maybe because I thought no matter how horrified you are, you might be a little happy that I found people who get me, and a place I fit in the world. Like I don't love you, but I don't want to hurt you, either. Because if this is the last time we ever talk to each other, I don't want you to worry about me. I guess I just wanted you to know that...that your baby girl never really existed, but if she did, she'd be safe. Happy.</p>
<p>"And I know that I'm hurting you telling you this, and I really, really don't want to, but I can't keep up the lie anymore, I just <em>can't</em>. But I thought this was better than erasing myself from your lives, or letting you think I died. Because you deserve better than that. Better than me deciding what you get to remember, and better than mourning a person who never existed." Aster wasn't at all certain they wouldn't still be mourning their little imaginary Lily, anyway, but. "I'm sorry I wasn't...that I didn't see that sooner. I shouldn't have asked Sev to mess with your heads because it was easier than dealing with the consequences of telling you the truth, and I shouldn't have convinced myself that it was kinder to let you believe my lies."</p>
<p>She stood, then, and circled the coffee table to stand beside her parents, their eyes following her, staring silently up at her from the chairs from which they hadn't moved, scared and horrified, but mostly overwhelmed. For a brief moment, Aster thought Evans was going to try to give them an awkward, seated farewell embrace. She wasn't sure whether what she did instead was more or less awkward, kissing them on their foreheads, like a blessing, a hot wave of light magic washing over Aster as she stepped back.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry. I know that's not enough, it will never be enough, especially since you know <em>sorry</em>'s just a word to me. But I do regret it. All the things I lied about, that I hid from you. If I could go back and change those choices, I would. And I probably wouldn't be half as decent a person as I am if you hadn't raised me, which might not be saying a lot, but it does mean <em>something</em>, so thank you. For everything."</p>
<p>There was a long, heavy beat of silence, Evans's parents staring at her as though she'd just literally killed their daughter right in front of them, rather than just shattered their illusions about herself, Snape staring at them very intently, probably trying to work out exactly what that silent benediction had done — undoing whatever he'd done to make them forget those other arguments, Aster was guessing — and Aster herself trying to decide whether it was a very noble thing, Evans telling her parents the truth about herself, or needlessly cruel and self-indulgent. She, personally, was leaning toward thinking it might have been less unpleasant for the Evanses, at least, if she <em>had</em> asked de Mort to just make them forget about her. Not <em>erase</em> her, that would be impractical even for de Mort, but just...ease her out of their immediate consciousness, so they wouldn't be reminded of her all too often, or think her all too important when they <em>were</em> reminded that they had a second daughter.</p>
<p>(It was possible Evans didn't know that was a thing that could be done, but Aster was pretty sure that was how de Mort made people who'd known him as Tom Riddle forget that Riddle and de Mort were the same bloody person.)</p>
<p>At the end of that beat, Evans apparently decided that she'd said all she wanted to say, if no one else had anything, well...that was that, wasn't it. She offered them a very solemn, very formal farewell — "Go with grace, then, and may you always walk in the light." (really leaning into the whole <em>priestess</em> thing, there) — and proceeded out the front door — again, very solemnly and deliberately.</p>
<p>Snape, who'd simply stared along with the rest of them as she walked away, stood as the door closed softly behind her. "I think that's our cue, Black. Missus Evans, thank you. You've been more a mother to me than Eileen ever was. Mister Evans, it will be a pleasure never to darken your doorway again." He turned smartly on his heel, a gesture which would have looked much more impressive and dramatic with an ankle-length cape to swirl about himself, and marched over to the door, though he waited there, pointedly glaring at Aster to catch up, rather than just go.</p>
<p><em>She</em> stayed exactly where she was, long enough to make sure that the Evanses at least <em>started</em> to recover, only standing when Missus Evans whispered, shocked and horrified (which had quickly become a theme for this conversation), "I just don't— Where did we go wrong?"</p>
<p><em>Oh, I don't know, probably right around the point where you brought Evans into your home and let her mum charm your husband into believing she was yours all along?</em> (De Mort, Aster thought, couldn't be held <em>solely</em> responsible for any darkness in Evans's blood. That was fucking <em>cold</em>.) "You didn't," she offered. "Go wrong, I mean. Some people are just naturally dark. Honestly? I think you did <em>shockingly</em> well with her, considering what you had to work with."</p>
<p>"Get out!" Mister Evans demanded, rising to gather his now-freely-crying wife into his arms, rather red-eyed himself, and entirely furious. "Just— Just <em>go!</em>"</p>
<p>She went.</p>
<p>Evans was waiting for them at the end of the drive, leaning on her father's automobile with her head tilted up to the sky, watching the clouds. She heaved a great sigh as they approached, coming back to earth to fix them with a level stare. "That could have gone better."</p>
<p>"You don't say?" Snape said, his tone positively <em>dripping</em> sarcasm.</p>
<p>"Oh, piss off, Sev. You're the one who said I shouldn't lie to them if I didn't want to. And knowing how many things I've asked you to make them forget over the past few years, hopefully they'll think I'm enough of a monster they're better off without me."</p>
<p>Aster raised an eyebrow at her. "While also being aware that you're safe and happy and have a place to belong, in case that will help them come to terms with the fact that their precious baby girl is actually a heartless fucking sociopath who never wants to be obligated to speak to them again?"</p>
<p>"Yep, basically."</p>
<p>She shook her head in mock disbelief. "You're a piece of work, you know that, Evans?"</p>
<p>Evans just gave her a shameless shrug, as though to say, <em>yes, and? you already knew that about me</em>. "Can I bum a fag, Sev?"</p>
<p>Aster had no idea why that was so funny, but apparently she wasn't the only one who thought so — Snape started sniggering almost uncontrollably. "My father's dead, my mother's probably going to drink herself to death within a month, your parents are utterly horrified by us, and we never have to step foot in Cokeworth again. Sounds like a time to celebrate if I've ever heard one," he declared, offering her a packet of cheap smokes from the depths of a pocket.</p>
<p>Aster snagged one, too, lighting it with a snap and a cocky, teasing grin. "To freedom, then. May your attempts to escape your families go a hell of a lot better than mine."</p>
<p>"Amen to that, Black."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Exile</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Since they never had gotten fed at the Evanses' house, and Aster was in far too much pain to drag Evans and Snape on a celebratory trawl of her favourite muggle record shop (which she otherwise certainly would have done, she'd briefly considered it before she remembered her left leg existed), they just grabbed some sort of Indian takeaway Aster didn't recognise from the restaurant which was "the only redeeming feature of the pestilent boil which is Cokeworth" and brought it back to school to eat by the lake.</p>
<p>Last night's storm had blown over, leaving the skies clear and the air crisp. An <em>imperviused</em> blanket turned the soft, muddy shore into a reasonably comfortable resting spot, and much as she would deny it if anyone were to accuse her of enjoying Snape's company, there were far worse ways to spend an afternoon than lounging around, ignoring the fact that they still had mundane, non-life-or-death concerns like homework to worry about.</p>
<p>They were lying flat on their backs, staring up at the endless expanse of blue and floating ideas for potential responses to Reggie's florid, overly-done apology letter (and trying not to laugh, because <em>ow</em>), when James found them.</p>
<p>"Where is he?" he demanded, before making any sort of attempt at a greeting.</p>
<p>Aster ignored him.</p>
<p>"Sirius," he said firmly, bending over her to block her view of the sky. "<em>Where</em> is <em>Remus</em>?! I know you—"</p>
<p>"She's not talking to you, Potter," Evans interrupted.</p>
<p>"<em>I</em> wasn't talking to <em>you</em>, <em>Evans</em>, and that's funny, she had <em>plenty</em> to say last night! What did you do with him, Sirius? People've been asking questions all day, and—"</p>
<p>"Evans, please explain that I only spoke to Potter last night because it was an emergency, and he was monopolising the Headmaster."</p>
<p>"That is such a load of hippogriff dung! Are you <em>really</em> going to— How immature <em>are</em> you?! Just because <em>Cousin Bella</em> says you're not allowed to talk to me—"</p>
<p>"Bella didn't say she's not allowed to talk to <em>you</em>, she said <em>you're</em> not allowed to talk to <em>Aster</em>," Evans reminded him. "On which topic, piss off."</p>
<p>"Why don't <em>you</em> piss off, Evans, seeing as this is nothing to do with <em>you</em>?"</p>
<p>Evans rolled to her feet to invade his space and jab him in the chest. The scene was kind of reminiscent of this morning with Greyback (though obviously with less sausage). James was <em>definitely</em> more intimidated than Greyback, though, taking a step back under the furious glare of the redheaded witch, her eyes flashing killing-curse green for the first time Aster had noticed since...Samhain? It'd been a while, anyway.</p>
<p>Aster struggled to sit up, to better appreciate the fear and uncertainty on James's face. And also so she could hex him more easily, if he decided that <em>forcing</em> Evans to shut up and get out of the way sounded like a good idea. (He wouldn't have two weeks ago, no matter how she'd provoked him or how much of a pain in his arse she was being, but <em>now</em> she was a scary evil necromancer, so who knew what he thought was reasonable "self defence"?)</p>
<p>"You need to get this through your thick fucking skull <em>right</em> now, Potter — <em>Aster</em> is <em>mine</em>. Anything to do with her is to do with me! <em>You hurt her!</em> You broke her trust and threw her away! I don't want you anywhere <em>near</em> her!"</p>
<p>Aster flinched. It was true, but it still hurt to hear. Even if Evans did understand her better and accept her more fully than James ever had, anyway, and was only saying it to defend her.</p>
<p>"I did <em>not!</em>"</p>
<p>"<em>Yes. You. Did.</em>" Poke. Poke. Poke. He was going to have a bruise in the middle of his chest, Aster thought, vaguely amused. "Do you understand what it means, breaking your word <em>to your own family</em>? She's your <em>cousin</em>, you <em>incomparable buffoon</em>, your sister in all but blood! And she looked up to you! She thought the <em>world</em> of you! And <em>you</em> in your <em>infinite idiocy</em>, did the <em>one</em> thing you could <em>possibly</em> have done to prove to her, beyond <em>any </em>shadow of a doubt, that you have <em>no</em> respect for her, you don't <em>care</em> about her, you consider her <em>utterly unworthy of any regard, whatsoever!</em>"</p>
<p>"<em>What?! </em>No, I— You've lost the bloody plot, Evans! Sirius, I <em>know</em> you're listening to me! Would you just—"</p>
<p>"I have <em>not</em> lost the plot, you sanctimonious, self-righteous bastard! She forgave you for not hearing her out about me and our little tryst in the Common Room back in September. She forgave you for letting everyone think that she tried to deliberately <em>murder</em> Sev, when we all know it was <em>your</em>— I don't even have a word strong enough—"</p>
<p>"Reckless, irresponsible ineptitude?" Snape suggested.</p>
<p>"Yes, thank you, Sev. It was <em>your</em> reckless, irresponsible ineptitude and your <em>gross</em> disregard for the protections Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey determined were necessary to ensure Remus's safety that was responsible for both last month's near disaster, <em>and</em> this month's even worse catastrophe! She forgave you for your refusal to accept her sex change as the <em>complete non-issue</em> that it is — yes, she's kind of bad at acting like a girl, but Sirius was always bad at acting like a boy, too — and for begging McGonagall to force her out of your dorm room and for your constant implications that she's soft in the head for believing in the Powers." That actually didn't bother Aster nearly as much as it bothered Evans. She'd grown up knowing that atheists existed and there was no way to prove to them that they were completely wrong about everything ever. "She even managed to convince herself that it didn't matter that you rejected her love and her loyalty on Samhain, that it was all a big <em>misunderstanding</em>, that you <em>didn't mean it</em> when you called her disturbing!"</p>
<p>"I <em>didn't!</em>"</p>
<p>(He had.)</p>
<p>"But there's <em>really</em> no way she could convince herself that you <em>didn't understand</em> what breaking that promise meant. Leaving aside the fact that, if Dumbledore had actually believed you, I could be dead by now, Aster had <em>just explained </em>how <em>fundamentally</em> important it is to keep your bloody word! To <em>follow through</em> on your promises! Fulfilling your obligations comes right after ensuring your fucking survival in order of priority, Potter!"</p>
<p>"It wasn't even a promise, Evans! She was being crazy! I just said it so she'd let me go!"</p>
<p>And therein lay the problem.</p>
<p>She'd accepted when Bella and Zee had explained that he had a different definition of <em>promise</em> than she did, it was stupid as fuck, but she <em>could</em> see how there might have been a misunderstanding, there. Despite her having just explained that promises were important, if he hadn't thought he made a promise, then maybe she could convince herself he held anything other than complete disdain for her.</p>
<p>The <em>problem</em> was that he was afraid of her. That he one-thousand per cent <em>had</em> meant it when he'd said she was disturbing. That he couldn't handle her being completely fucking insane. That he couldn't even <em>tell</em> when she wasn't in her right mind. He hadn't thought there was really anything wrong with her for the entire month of September, and when the dung-bomb had gone off last month, she'd...spooked him. Now he was seeing Madness where there was just Aster being Aster. And he <em>really</em> wasn't handling it well. It'd be one thing if he were just overly cautious and kept tipping off Dorea or Narcissa when she was perfectly fine, but panicking and lying and running away from her was just...</p>
<p>She knew it, had known it, already, that he was scared of her, it just...hadn't <em>clicked</em>, she guessed. Not until this very second.</p>
<p>He was <em>afraid</em> of her, and there was absolutely nothing she could do to fix that. And even if she could, the fact that she had to– to <em>coddle</em> him, to assure him that she wasn't a threat to him—</p>
<p>It felt almost like a physical thing, the last vestiges of her respect for him vanishing.</p>
<p>How had she ever thought that this...this scared, <em>weak </em>idiot could be a leader worth following? How had she ever thought that he could keep her in check when she couldn't control herself, when he went running to Mummy, or his precious Leader of the Light as soon as she made him the least bit nervous? How could she <em>possibly</em> have <em>any</em> respect for him when– when he was such a <em>child?</em></p>
<p>"Do you really think she would have let you out of that room if she hadn't believed you meant it? As far as I'm concerned, <em>that counts</em>. And even if you didn't, lying to her is almost as bad as breaking a promise, anyway! Putting your fear and your bigotry ahead of keeping your word and keeping your mouth shut says you don't think of Aster as your ally or your friend or family or follower or <em>anything</em> to you, that she <em>doesn't count</em>. That you do not and <em>cannot</em> ever have any degree of trust between you — that she has no honour. That the honour and trust she placed in you are so much worthless rubbish! How can you not know this?!"</p>
<p>(Aster was pretty sure he didn't know that because no one had ever taught him.)</p>
<p>She had actually been thinking about that a lot over the past couple of days — how she'd ever thought it was a good idea to follow James fucking Potter, of all people — because Bella said she should try to stop hating herself if she wanted to get out of her meetings with McKinnon, and a large part of the reason she felt bad about anything ever, including herself, was knowing that James (and Dorea, but mostly James) would be disappointed or disgusted or hate her for doing and thinking the wrong things. She felt bad about hurting him, and about making him hate her, but not about whatever 'bad' thing she happened to have done itself, or anyone <em>else</em> it had hurt, outside the very small circle of people whose wellbeing she actually cared about. (Even as mad as she'd been last month, if she'd realised that Remus would suffer for turning or killing Snape, she wouldn't have considered that a valid solution to the problem of his existence.) Clearly, the easiest way to stop hating herself was convincing herself that she didn't care what James thought about her (a task that had suddenly gotten <em>much</em> easier, almost weirdly so), so she'd been thinking about why she'd ever valued his opinion in the first place.</p>
<p>Looking back on the decision of her eleven-year-old self to latch onto James and his values, that had been mostly based on the fact that he was <em>allowed</em> to act like a feckless idiot, <em>in public</em>, and how badly she'd envied his carefree, childish silliness and hated the constraints of her own family, and Walburga for forcing her to practise dark magic. She'd just been rebelling against them by trying to be a Potter instead (which she was unequivocally <em>shite</em> at), and honestly? She was starting to think maybe Bella had a point about Dorea being a <em>terrible</em> mum, at least from the perspective of teaching her son to, at the <em>very</em> least, not <em>accidentally</em> ruin the lives of people who called him a friend. (Bella generally <em>did</em> have a point.) She'd thought, occasionally over the years, that she would much rather have been Dorea's son than Walburga's, but if <em>she'd</em> been born a Potter, she'd probably have killed someone by now (or be locked up in Janus Thickey, or both), because no one would've taught her that it wasn't okay to be an irresponsible, impulsive little shite.</p>
<p>All of which really only made it clearer that James...was <em>not</em> the sort of person whose example she ought to have been following in the first place, and she wasn't entirely certain when she'd transitioned from following his <em>example</em> to following <em>him</em>, but that was an even worse non-decision. (Bella was <em>definitely</em> going to say <em>I told you so</em> when she finally admitted this revelation.)</p>
<p>James glared at the furious redhead. "Well, excuse me, <em>Miss de Mort!</em> <em>Some</em> of us aren't secretly dark pureblood princesses! <em>I</em> didn't grow up with that– that <em>complete nonsense!</em>"</p>
<p>"Oh, get your head out of your fucking arse, why don't you! <em>I</em> was raised by <em>muggles</em>, Potter! I'm not <em>secretly</em> anything, it's just, unlike <em>some</em> people, I've actually made an effort to get to know people outside my own little ideological <em>bubble </em>over the past five years, and look at how the world <em>is</em> rather than how you <em>want</em> it to be! Aster <em>literally told you all that</em> while she was explaining <em>why Bella might try to kill you</em> and how she was obligated to stop you from <em>doing something that would obligate Bella to kill you!</em> She was trying to <em>help you</em>, and you <em>pissed in her fucking face!</em> Now, bearing in mind we're talking about an emotionally unstable girl who, until that point, put an unhealthy degree of stock in your opinion of her, and now feels an equally unhealthy degree of shame for misjudging you so <em>incredibly</em> <em>spectacularly</em>—" Actually, she thought she might be okay, now... "—do <em>you</em> think it's a good idea for her to talk to you?!"</p>
<p>"Yeah, well, this isn't about her, or me," James blustered. "It's about <em>Remus!</em> He's my <em>friend!</em> I just want to know—"</p>
<p>"You don't <em>deserve</em> to know a <em>damn</em> thing about Remy, <em>you</em> just ruined <em>his </em>life even more comprehensively than you fucked over Aster! He's — they <em>both</em> are — better off without friends like <em>you!</em> So you can just. Piss. <em>Off!</em>"</p>
<p>Evans had been prodding him in the chest periodically, continuing to advance and force him to retreat toward the water, over the course of her (entirely accurate) little tirade. The last emphatic poke was really more of a shove, enough to cause him to lose his footing, falling on his arse in the shallows with a muddy splash.</p>
<p>"Hey!"</p>
<p>"Shut. <em>Up</em>. Potter. Shut up, and for once in your thrice-cursed life, <em>listen</em>. I know Bella told you that if you attempt to force Aster to acknowledge you, if you try to talk to her, there would be <em>consequences</em>. <em>I'm</em> telling you that if you have anything to say to <em>her</em>, you can say it to <em>me</em>, instead. Aster is <em>mine</em>, and my authority in this matter is <em>absolute</em>. You will <em>respect</em> that, or you just might not <em>live </em>long enough to have to worry about whatever consequences <em>Bella</em> had in mind. <em>Do. You. Understand?</em>"</p>
<p>Aster made an entirely unseemly squeak (which Evans thankfully didn't seem to hear, though Snape definitely had, giving her a knowing, sidelong smirk), because that might actually be the hottest thing she'd ever seen, and she might legitimately have difficulty sleeping in the same room as Evans tonight without jumping her bones, regardless of the fact that she was currently having trouble sitting up on her own, let alone doing anything more athletic.</p>
<p>James nodded, scrabbling away down the shore as he attempted to find his feet, obviously terrified. Aster couldn't see Evans's face anymore, but she was willing to bet her eyes would be glowing again. She could feel the energy gathering in the air around her, dark and light and <em>furious</em>, as Evans, who was clearly not accustomed to her newfound strength regardless of how good her control generally was, let it slip, just a bit. (A frisson of excitement shivered down Aster's spine, completely ignoring the inadvisability of moving at the moment. <em>Damn it, Evans, could you stop being sexy when I'm fucking injured, here?!</em>)</p>
<p>"Good." And then, with a hint of amusement Aster was positive James wouldn't have heard, she added, "<em>Do I need to tell you again?!</em>"</p>
<p>He fled.</p>
<p>Evans flopped back down beside Aster and Snape, still glaring at his cowardly, retreating arse. "Well, at least <em>that</em> went well."</p>
<p>"Mmm, yes," Snape drawled. "You made your mother cry, Potter <em>definitely</em> thinks you're capital-E Evil, the D.L.E. are still investigating my father's mysterious death, Lupin can never show his face in upstanding society again, and Black is nursing multiple werewolf bites, but your plan to seduce her again might actually be ahead of schedule."</p>
<p>Aster felt herself go pink. "Shut up, Snape."</p>
<p>"It's hard to say whether Potter or Black is wetter, at the moment," he observed, which was pretty much the <em>exact opposite</em> of shutting up.</p>
<p>Evans let go of her glare to give him a wry smirk, ignoring Aster entirely. "Oh, no, I'd say we're right on schedule. See, now she's injured, I have an excuse to invite her to share my bed instead of trying to climb into hers, and—"</p>
<p>And now she was just being <em>mean</em>.</p>
<p>"Tease. You know she can't <em>do</em> anything at the moment, she's all broken and pathetic."</p>
<p>"Oh, fuck you, Bat-boy!"</p>
<p>"Sorry, Black, you're not my type."</p>
<p>Aster scoffed at him. "That's a dirty lie." She might not be the sort of girl he'd like to court, but she was <em>very</em> much the sort of girl he'd like to lose his virginity to. (I.E., someone who reminded him of Evans, but in a less sisterly, more <em>I fantasise about stabbing you</em> way.) "And if you think I can't do <em>anything</em> at the moment, it's no wonder you never get laid." He raised an eyebrow at her, all Slytherin and skeptical. "I'll give you a hint — there's nothing wrong with my tongue." Though getting into a position to use it might, admittedly, be unpleasant.</p>
<p>Snape considered this for a moment, but apparently couldn't think of a single way to turn that to a disparaging comment. Or potentially was just distracted by the mental image the suggestion conjured. "I stand corrected."</p>
<p>"Damn right, you do. Though now it's been brought up, I probably <em>should</em> go see how Remus is settling in." It'd been what? Five hours? Six? "Six hours should be long enough for the shock to have worn off, right?"</p>
<p>Evans and Snape exchanged a somewhat amused, somewhat exasperated look. "<em>Yes</em>, Black, I'm <em>sure</em> Lupin has entirely reconciled himself to his new circumstances. I can't imagine he won't welcome your obnoxiously enthusiastic company."</p>
<p>"Well, if it's a choice between hanging out with me or Greyback's Pack or Bella or...I actually don't know who else might be over there regularly anymore, but probably just Death Eaters. Maybe de Mort? I'm pretty sure he'd pick me. Or maybe de Mort, since he wouldn't recognise him. <em>I'd</em> pick me."</p>
<p>Snape snorted. "That would be because you're insane, Black."</p>
<p>"He...might just want some time alone with his thoughts, you know?"</p>
<p>"Um, no. I realise you and Remy were close back before he joined the Marauders. Well, before we kind of press-ganged him into the Marauders. Whatever. But he's almost as prone to brooding as I am these past couple of years. And brooding isn't <em>nearly</em> as good a look on him. He doesn't have the hair for it."</p>
<p>"You realise that makes <em>no</em> sense," Snape informed her, which was ridiculous, of course it did. Brooding was an <em>aesthetic</em>, which called for moody glowering and dishevelled curls and an appropriately melancholic novel or collection of poetry and maybe a couple of fags. Firewhisky, if they were being sophisticated about it, and/or couldn't smoke without turning into a coughing, wheezing, watery-eyed mess.</p>
<p>Which would probably have been a better reason for Moony not to brood, but whatever.</p>
<p>"Of course it does. Help me up."</p>
<hr/>
<p>"Hey, Remus," Aster said, knocking lightly on the cracked door of the room one of the werewolves had said he was staying in. It swung fully open easily, revealing that he already had company — the same older woman who had taken him under her wing at breakfast.</p>
<p>There were noticeable streaks of grey in her light brown hair and fine lines around the corners of her eyes and mouth, though that wasn't as telling of her age as the fact that Aster didn't recognise her. Werewolves tended to age faster than normal people, even the ones who embraced the Curse, the monthly transformation taking a heavy toll on their bodies, physically. If she was a muggle-wolf, she could be as young as thirty. (It was actually kind of weird Greyback was in as good of shape as he was, considering he was almost forty and had been a werewolf for half of his life.) But if she was a witch, and especially if she was relatively recently-turned, she could be in her eighties. The fact that Aster didn't recognise her suggested she was at the older end of that range, though, turned too late to learn to be a very effective fighter. (Aster would have noticed an old lady practising sling-casting with everyone else the other day, and if she were a pacifist, she wouldn't be <em>here</em>, she'd be in Starlight.) She <em>dressed</em> magical, in the same sort of robes Walburga might wear around the house, nothing fancy, but very proper, which also argued she was a witch.</p>
<p>She was sitting on the edge of the bed, eyeing the morose boy with a very Dorea-like look of concern. Remus himself was pressed into the corner, much as he had been when they'd been startled awake by Evans this morning, except now, instead of trying to hide behind a sheet, embarrassed to be seen naked (even just from the waist up), he was hiding behind his knees, pulled up to his chest to rest his forehead on them, arms wrapped around them to keep him curled into his Ball of Misery.</p>
<p>"Oh, sorry, didn't realise you had company. Hi, I'm Aster. I don't think we've met?"</p>
<p>"Annie," the old woman (definitely old, she <em>sounded</em> old) said. "And I do recognise you from breakfast. You're Bellatrix's cousin, yes?"</p>
<p>"About half of the Death Eaters are Bella's cousins to one degree or another, you know. But yes. I am, in fact, the most dashing and charming of all Bella's cousins, or at least the most entertaining, and therefore the best of the lot. I was just coming to check on Remus, but if you're in the middle of something, I can piss off."</p>
<p>"Please, come in. I don't mind. Young Remus and I have just been discussing the nature of a pack."</p>
<p>"Hmm, what about it?" she asked, lowering herself to the edge of an armchair (careful not to sit back and sink into it, because that would be almost as hard to get up from as lying on the ground). "Just like, how the other boys are likely to treat him—" The majority of the pack, or at least the wolves Aster had noticed at breakfast, were men in their early to mid-twenties. "—or why he should join you in supporting the Death Eaters, or...? You know this is only temporary, right? Remy's the epitome of soft, the rest of the Pack would use him as a bloody chew toy making him earn his place if they thought he was planning on sticking around." And he'd let them, because his picture was right next to the definition of <em>pushover</em> in the dictionary.</p>
<p>"Not this pack, specifically," Annie said, giving her a soft smile. "The idea of packhood in general. <em>Family</em>, if in a rather more House of Black sense than that most humans apply to the concept. It is, undeniably, a curse to bear the Wolf in one's soul, but it is almost a greater curse to do so in isolation, as this poor boy has been forced to do. Wolves are pack creatures, as are humans. We are not meant to lock ourselves up to suffer alone."</p>
<p>Oh. Well, Aster couldn't say she disagreed with <em>that</em>. "Well, yeah, obviously. I mean, Moony's been much calmer, since we — our former friends and I — became animagi to keep him company on the moon. Well, last night notwithstanding."</p>
<p>"I bit her," Remus volunteered, speaking into his knees, sounding utterly miserable about it. "I've probably ruined her life, too."</p>
<p>"Remy, mate? My life was already pretty thoroughly fucked. Not sure you can take credit for that, even if it turns out I <em>am</em> a wolf, now. And if I am, so what? I <em>already</em> spend full moons running around with you as a dog. Not much difference, so far as I'm concerned," she said lightly, successfully baiting him into looking at her, if only to give her an absolutely <em>filthy</em> glare.</p>
<p>"It's a <em>huge</em> difference, Sir— Aster! <em>Huge!</em> Do you even— It's like being in a bloody <em>nightmare</em> that you <em>can't wake up from!</em> The Wolf, it <em>wants</em> to bite people, wants to turn them! You can't control it, you can't reason with it, you can't even try to focus on something else! You're still <em>you</em> when you're Padfoot, no matter how deep you let yourself fall into the dog's instincts, you can still <em>think!</em> And you remember everything, not just horrible, black-out flashes here and there, and feeling sick horror, and the Wolf's rage and frustration, and—" He paused, breathing hard.</p>
<p>Aster bit her tongue to avoid pointing out that she was quite familiar with the urge to hurt people just because she liked to (almost <em>needed</em> to, sometimes), and rage and frustration when faced with the soul-crushing realities of living in a world that valued peace and civility over violent, chaotic freedom, and that perhaps it was better to be horrified of that part of yourself, rather than longing to embrace it. She was still herself when she was Padfoot, yes, but she was also still herself when she woke up hating the world and wanting to pick fights with people just because they were there, and their very existence offended her, when she was so very tempted to say <em>fuck it</em> and just punch whoever was annoying her in the face or attempt to stab them to make a point, but couldn't, because most people weren't Bella or Cissy and wouldn't be able to stop her actually hurting them. Perhaps it would be easier to have no control over the Wolf, rather than struggle with not <em>wanting</em> to control herself — had he ever thought of that?</p>
<p><em>This isn't about </em>you<em>, Aster, you self-centered arse...</em></p>
<p>"I would <em>kill</em> to be an animagus instead of a werewolf. Literally. Deliberately. It wouldn't be nearly as bad to be a murderer just once as it is to never know if you're going to hurt someone, or kill them, or turn them. I was <em>safe</em> in the Shack until—" His voice cracked, cutting him off. He buried his face in his knees again. "I never wanted to hurt anyone, Siri. And– and..."</p>
<p>Aster sighed. (<em>Ow.</em>) "Yeah, I know, Remy. And I know you know it's not your fault, and I know you don't care, you still feel responsible, because you're nearly as fucked in the head about this shite as I am just in general. Which probably means my opinion doesn't count as much as I think it should, but, hey, Evans agrees with me. She just shoved Potter in the lake and threatened to kill him for asking about you." She paused, then decided, fuck it. "Hottest fucking thing I've ever seen."</p>
<p>Remus was apparently absolutely desperate to change the subject, even if it probably wouldn't last, seeing as complaining, "You're a girl, now, Aster. How can you <em>still </em>always think with your dick?" didn't really change the fact that he would still be a werewolf when the tangent was exhausted.</p>
<p>"Ah, well, clearly thinking with your dick is a state of mind. No actual dick required." Remy snorted, obviously amused in spite of himself. "Convenient, really, I can just spend all my time perving on everyone now, and my trousers don't give me away." That managed to draw another amused snort from Remus, and a <em>very</em> confused look from the older werewolf. "I used to be a boy. Hey! Remy! It's my one-month birthday! We should celebrate!"</p>
<p>"'M not in the mood for celebrating, Sir— Aster."</p>
<p>"Are you sure? I know where they keep the good brandy." His poison of choice.</p>
<p>"Yeah, I'm sure."</p>
<p>"Well, fine." Aster pouted at the top of his head, despite not being in any shape to get fucked up herself.</p>
<p>"Forgive me, but...how did you...become a girl? And <em>why?</em>" Annie asked, in the conversational lull which followed.</p>
<p>"It seemed like a good idea at the time, and also because the Dark wanted to see me suffer, and Zee — Mirabella, I mean — thought it was better to just let me become a girl than tell me no and force me to run off and do something stupider with more consequences, like become a Parisian streetwalker to get the money to get a blood alchemist to do it properly, and probably get distracted and end up running a brothel or dead of a viv overdose. It <em>really</em> could go either way."</p>
<p>"I...see. I also see why Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum have been referring to you as Little Bella."</p>
<p>"Is that Hati and Skoll?" Annie nodded. Wankers. She might actually prefer <em>Trixie</em> over <em>Little Bella</em>. She was her own person, damn it! (Even if it was kind of flattering to be compared to Bella, most of the time.) "It's honestly probably more the war game we were playing on Sunday than my vivacious personality. I mean, <em>I</em> think Bella's funny, but she's not exactly the friendly and outgoing type. Also, if Bella wanted to get high on magic, she and Lord Sparklebum would probably just sacrifice someone. Which means she would <em>definitely</em> end up running the brothel. And probably half of Europe, too, but that would be incidental. On the other hand, it's kind of hard to not act like her on a battlefield when she's the one who taught me to fight."</p>
<p>Granted, she'd taught everyone else there how to fight as well. The really obvious similarity was in how shamelessly Aster <em>enjoyed </em>fighting, even when she was losing. It wasn't just Auntie Dru who thought fighting was unrefined and uncivilised, and the sort of serious business one did because it was necessary, not fun, and if you thought it was fun, there might be something wrong with you, or at the very least, you should be ashamed of your barbarian tendencies. That was definitely a Society-wide thing.</p>
<p>"<em>Lord Sparklebum?</em>" the woman repeated, sounding both amused and scandalised.</p>
<p>"Have you ever seen him in the sun?" Probably not, Aster was betting. "He sort of...<em>shimmers</em>."</p>
<p>"Sirius has been coming up with irreverent nicknames for Monsieur Voleur for years," Remus informed the older werewolf. "The more important question is, why were you playing war games with Bella?"</p>
<p>"Because I was having a shite day, obviously."</p>
<p>"Uh-<em>huh</em>."</p>
<p>"I <em>was</em>. My mind healer was being all judgy about my <em>perfectly reasonable </em>reaction to Potter being a lying, oath-breaking sack of shite who doesn't give a bloody owl-pellet about me, kept trying to make me admit I'm not actually as okay as I think I am. And I couldn't stab him, because that would totally prove his point, and I couldn't even let him know I was <em>thinking</em> about it because that would probably <em>also</em> prove his point and that just makes talking to him even more stressful and have I mentioned lately that I <em>hate</em> mind-healers? And I was all set to just never go back, but then Evans pointed out I had to if I wanted to go to school, and Bella pointed out that if I drop out of school, I'll have even fewer opportunities to try to convince Dumbledore to come to the table and negotiate instead of getting all our friends killed fighting a losing war. So obviously I <em>do</em> have to go back, and that sucks balls. I think I might actually be actively <em>dreading</em> sitting around for another hour trying not to flip out over him just <em>lurking in my fucking head</em> and <em>watching me think</em>. Which, yes, I know that's his job, but deliberately forcing myself <em>not</em> to react, just sitting there all open and vulnerable, freaks me out. Majorly so." She was <em>really</em> hoping that Bella was right about the bastard just wanting her to stop hating herself, and then she could stop seeing him. "It wouldn't be nearly as bad if I didn't know he was there, but I do and I hate it and I hate him and having to talk to him and the fact that I'm a crazy person in the first place, and the fact that normal people continue to expect me to not <em>act</em> like a crazy person, while treating me like a crazy person, and everything was just shite, okay?</p>
<p>"Also, Zee informed me that hitting on McGee is actually disturbing now that I'm a girl, because apparently girls aren't supposed to talk about liking sex. Which is bloody moronic. Sex is <em>great</em>."</p>
<p>Remus, who was well accustomed to her occasional ranting by this point, refused to be distracted by any part of said rant, despite not really having heard her side of why she and James were no longer friends, which was almost impressive, in a way. (Annie, who was not, just kind of gaped at her.) "...So you decided to let Bellatrix kick you around a training field for a few hours?"</p>
<p>"Yes? I mean, it sounds like a <em>terrible</em> idea when you put it like that—" and even worse taking into account she'd already been injured, "—but I <em>like</em> war games, and I never get to play anymore." One of the worst parts of trying to hate Bella on principle was that she couldn't go over to Ancient House to blow off steam on the training field when she was having a particularly bad day. "And I actually managed to tag Bella once with this firestorm spell Cassie taught me!" Remus gave her a seriously unimpressed stare. "You don't understand, Remy, I actually <em>scored a point on Bella</em> in a <em>one-on-one</em> fight! That <em>never</em> happens. I ended up with half a dozen recruits under my command for the last round, <em>and</em> two of the actually qualified Death Eaters, and we couldn't touch her <em>together</em>."</p>
<p>That, if anything, made him look even more unimpressed. (How was that even possible? Was there no end to the depth of disapproval he could convey in a simple frown?) "So you're...hanging out with the Junior Death Eaters now? <em>Voluntarily?</em>"</p>
<p><em>Oh</em>.</p>
<p>That was so incredibly not the point. Aster shrugged uncomfortably.</p>
<p>It wasn't as though she was planning on hanging out with the Slytherins from now on or some shite (well, yes, okay, Evans was basically a Slytherin, that wasn't the point either), but she <em>had</em> grown up with most of the baby Death Eaters, and they weren't all complete shites like Ian and Jules. Most of them were actually perfectly tolerable company, assuming they completely avoided discussing politics. This year's recruits were only a couple of years older than she was, they'd already been in training (unofficially) back when she was still hanging around in the summers after third and fourth years. They'd been the cool older kids she'd wanted to impress when she was about six. (And given that she'd been <em>Sirius fucking Black</em>, and had actually been able to keep up most of the time, they'd actually been willing to include her in their pick-up quidditch matches and dueling contests and such.) Obviously some of the shine had worn off after she started school, but she still <em>knew</em> them.</p>
<p>It was kind of <em>weird</em>, seeing them all again, fighting with them again. Easy to fall back into old habits and camaraderie, remembering how they used to work together. She'd been pleasantly surprised that BJ had actually gotten halfway decent at runic casting in the last two years (he really wasn't much of a fighter, honestly), and Cousin Liam was fucking scary with battlefield transfiguration now, when had <em>that</em> happened? And it was even weirder that they were all so willing to follow her command. It wasn't as though she'd led a side <em>often</em>, even when she'd been training with them more regularly. (She'd still been the youngest, and kind of an impulsive little shite.) Malfoy had shown up about halfway through the afternoon and tried to take over her team (probably to try to impress Bella, everyone knew she didn't think he was worthy of Cissy), but Doug and Caspian (who were a couple of years older than Malfoy, the two properly qualified Death Eaters she'd mentioned), had basically told him that if he was leading their side, they had better things to do. They weren't recruits, they didn't have to be there, they'd just jumped in to help Aster for fun. Aster had told him to try to flank Bella on her right, provide a distraction for those of them who could actually hit a moving target at twenty yards, and then hexed him in the face when he refused to do it. (Bat-Bogeys, <em>classic</em>.)</p>
<p>"They're not all <em>that</em> bad," she admitted, very grudgingly. Honestly, if she hadn't met James on the train before their Sorting, or if the Hat had decided to be stubborn and put her in Slytherin anyway, she'd probably be just as devoted to the Cause as any of them. She'd already hated her parents when she was eleven, yeah, but she would have followed Bella into the Death Eaters just as blindly as Reggie. Even <em>with</em> the Gryffindors' influence on her driving her away from them and making her face how horrible de Mort's tactics (<em>Bella's</em> tactics, a stubborn little James-sounding voice at the back of her mind reminded her) really were, she still had a lot more in common with the baby Death Eaters than she did with the Light, if she was being honest. (Which she was trying to be, in the interests of not hating herself, and therefore not needing to talk to McKinnon <em>every fucking week</em> until she left school.) And she understood them better, even if she didn't actually <em>like</em> them much.</p>
<p>"I wouldn't want to just <em>hang out</em> with them, but..." She gave him another uncomfortable shrug, before she came up with a perfect example of what she was trying to say. "I wouldn't want to hang out with that prick Carson, either." The Gryffindor Quidditch Team's keeper was just as big a prat as most of the baby Death Eaters (if somewhat less likely to hex muggleborns for existing). "Being on a team together is different."</p>
<p>"That's not what you've been saying for the past two, three years, you know. That they're not that bad."</p>
<p>Aster glowered at his concerned reproachfulness. "Well, fine, they <em>are</em> that bad — scheming, manipulative arseholes with the morals and sympathies of especially condescending pirates, more money than sense, and more ego than money. But they tend to be reasonably witty conversationalists and they don't expect anyone to play nice, and I know for a fact that none of <em>them </em>could see thestrals or learned their Unforgivables before they started school, and most of them are less inclined to entertain themselves by hurting other people than I am, so when I'm willing to admit to myself that I'm just as bad as they are in a lot of ways, and worse in others, they're reasonably good company." And she refused to feel like shite about that, just because James would be horrified by such an admission, because James was a fucking <em>moron</em> and had just ruined Remus's life being an <em>idiot</em>, and as Evans had kind of pointed out with her parents earlier, just because you didn't admit something didn't mean it wasn't <em>true</em>. "Especially if we're just running around a training field trying to curse Bella together. Not like there's a hell of a lot of talking about moral philosophy in that context. I don't <em>like</em> them — I don't like that I was raised as <em>one</em> of them, but..." She shrugged yet again. She'd been trying to deny being anything like them — anything like <em>Bella</em> — for <em>years</em>, but there hardly seemed to be much point, given the circumstances.</p>
<p>"You know me, Remus. You <em>know</em> I don't get how to be a good person. It doesn't come naturally to me, and no one taught me when I was little. Five years of trying to figure out how not to be an evil git, and I'm still as dark and fucked in the head as any other Black, just a little better at knowing when I should feel bad about not feeling bad. I <em>really</em> don't have any room to judge the baby Death Eaters." If it wouldn't have hurt like hell, she'd've had a dramatic sigh to go along with that admission.</p>
<p>"You shouldn't talk about yourself like that," Remus muttered into his knees, because he was the world's biggest pushover, feeling sorry for <em>Aster</em>, when it was <em>his</em> life that was in shambles, here.</p>
<p>"I've participated in cannibalistic subsumation rituals every year since I was <em>seven</em>, Remy," she said flatly. Remus's head snapped up to gape at her so quickly she'd be surprised if he hadn't hurt himself. "I've been telling you the Blacks are evil since we were firsties. And I've <em>never</em> exempted myself from that. This isn't me being down on myself, or whatever, I don't actually feel bad about it or about not feeling bad about it, I'm just saying, I know I <em>should</em>. According to people who have no idea how fucking <em>good </em>it feels to eat someone's soul."</p>
<p>"You <em>what?!</em>"</p>
<p>Aster rolled her eyes. "You heard me." She raised a hand between them and pointed a finger dramatically at her own face— "Evil." —and then Remus in his Ball of Misery. "<em>Not</em> evil. Also, comparatively speaking, the baby Death Eaters. They're mostly just selfish arseholes who haven't really thought about what <em>war</em> actually <em>means</em>, in terms of <em>death</em> and <em>suffering</em>. Not evil gits who've been watching Bella murder people to feed the Family Magic since they were little kids."</p>
<p>"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear any of that," Annie said, giving a delicate little old lady shudder. Probably good, Aster shouldn't have said it in the first place, though neither werewolf was really in a position to go turning them in to the authorities, and she really was sick of Remus acting like she wasn't <em>exactly</em> as horrible a person as she thought she was. Probably not something she'd need to worry about from now on, given that he was just kind of staring at her in silent horror, now. "I prefer not to dwell on your family's penchant for obscene sacrificial rituals."</p>
<p>"Is it true Greyback made Bella eat a human eyeball to prove she's a hard bitch before he would follow her orders?" Speaking of obscene sacrifices, and all.</p>
<p>Remy's eyes grew even wider. That actually looked a bit painful... "She really did that?"</p>
<p>"Well, I wouldn't have asked if I knew, would I? Wouldn't be surprised, though. She said she did, but sometimes she says things just to fuck with me." She raised an eyebrow at the older werewolf in silent question.</p>
<p>"That would be before my time," Annie said, with a superior <em>stop trying to bait me</em> sniff. (But that wasn't a <em>no</em>.) "And even had he done so, your own experience should serve as an example of the fact that no person or group of people is completely free of redeeming qualities."</p>
<p>Translation: Even if Greyback <em>did</em> challenge Bella to eat an eyeball, that didn't mean he was all bad. Or maybe didn't mean Bella was all bad. The first option made more sense in context, though.</p>
<p>Remus groaned.</p>
<p>"Before you arrived, I was attempting to convince your friend that he should come meet the rest of us, let us help him through this difficult time, rather than attempt to bear his guilt alone. That the Wolf is a monster, but we — young Remus included — are not," the woman explained.</p>
<p>"She's got a point, Remy. Monsters don't feel bad about acting like monsters." <em>I should know...</em> "But I've been telling him that for <em>years</em>," she told Annie. "Doesn't seem to make much difference. And Moony hadn't even ever hurt anyone before last night."</p>
<p>"That's not true. I've been hurting my parents every moon since I was turned. Every time we had to move, every—"</p>
<p>"Remy? Shut up. It's not your fault you're a werewolf, and it's definitely not your fault your father is so ashamed of that fact he's always been more concerned with hiding the Wolf and trying to kill it than he has been with helping his son learn to live with it."</p>
<p>"My mother—"</p>
<p>"Your mother's an even bigger pushover than you, letting you grow up thinking <em>any</em> of this is your fault."</p>
<p>"Shut up, Sir— Aster. You don't know what you're talking about."</p>
<p>Aster gave him a wry smirk. "Yeah, well, that's why you talking to other werewolves is a brilliant idea, isn't it. You're lucky I'm injured, or I'd come over there and physically drag you out of this room to meet them."</p>
<p>That was a wrong thing to say — Remus groaned again. (<em>Oops.</em>) "How badly did I hurt you, exactly? And <em>don't</em> lie just to spare my feelings."</p>
<p>She rolled her eyes. She actually didn't lie about things very often. And <em>never</em> because she was trying to be <em>nice</em>. Well, she might if she thought to, but she often just...didn't realise it <em>would</em> spare someone's feelings, <em>not knowing</em> things like whether or how badly they'd hurt someone. That <em>was</em> why she'd just out and confirmed that he'd bitten someone when he woke up this morning. "Moderately serious bite on my side and one on my calf. Bruises from a few others through my armour. Oh, and a few little scratches and punctures around my scruff. Only one of them was bad enough for stitches." It ran up the back of her left trapezius, twinged every time she moved her arm or neck, and she'd had to glamour it for the funeral earlier, but compared to her side and her calf, she'd barely noticed it.</p>
<p>"<em>Jesus</em>, Aster, I'm <em>so</em> sorry," her idiot friend groaned, as though his feelings were as injured as her body, and the latter state of affairs wasn't <em>entirely</em> her fault. She could've at least let Moony bite the man, too, before trying to lure him out of town. He probably wouldn't have been <em>nearly</em> as angry with her interrupting him if she had.</p>
<p>"Don't worry about it. The bruises healed up just fine—" Even if she had had to do it herself this morning, because bruises weren't life-threatening, and Bella had considered putting several dozen sutures in her to be more than enough medical care. "—and last time the magic faded enough to heal the nips and scratches on the new moon, like it does for you." It was a narrow window, and the magic in the cursed wounds wouldn't be <em>gone</em>, and using magic to heal a wound that had already partially healed on its own always left scars, anyway, but it had <em>worked</em>. "I can suffer through a couple weeks of taking it easy. Which I will. No matter how boring it is. Have you ever torn stitches out? Hurts more than getting bitten in the first place."</p>
<p>"When've you had stitches before?" Remus asked, in another obvious bid to change the subject.</p>
<p>Aster made a face at him. "Cissy and I were playing with Bella's throwing knives the summer I was ten — goblin steel impregnated with some kind of alchemical poison that makes the wounds impossible to heal with magic and <em>slow</em> to heal <em>without</em> magic, and that <em>doesn't </em>wane with the moon. Not that we <em>knew</em> that. We just thought they were pretty. I told Cissy she couldn't hit the broad side of a bloody nundu if it were standing right in front of her, skipped over and stood in front of the target like a bloody idiot making faces at her, and she managed to slice through one of the runes on the protective tattoo over my heart. Lucky throw, hit me edge-on. If she'd actually managed to stick me, I'd've been in real trouble. As it was, we just kind of freaked out because I was bleeding kind of badly and our healing charms wouldn't take, and Bella bitched us out for being stupid little shites for like twenty minutes straight."</p>
<p>"That's <em>horrible!</em>" Annie did indeed look horrified.</p>
<p>Aster snorted, trying not to laugh, because <em>ow</em>. Also, had she <em>actually</em> managed to forget the whole <em>obscene sacrificial rituals</em> thing a minute ago? "That's growing up in the House of Black. I popped the stitches running from Cissy after sneaking into her room to give her a matching scar in the middle of the night. After we established I wasn't going to die, she wouldn't shut up about actually cutting me," she explained in response to Remus's shocked, reproachful expression. "Walburga was <em>not</em> amused."</p>
<p>"I should think <em>not!</em>"</p>
<p>"Really? Have you met Cissy? Try to picture her in a white nightdress, covered in blood, like a thrice-cursed virgin sacrifice in a trashy novella escaped from the altar, tearing through the house in the middle of the night shrieking like a bloody banshee she was going to throttle me. It was fucking hilarious." She was having trouble not smiling thinking about it now. For all she'd hated her childhood, generally speaking, there had still been some genuinely great moments here and there. "Getting Cissy to break character and act like a savage little hellcat always is."</p>
<p>"<em>Now</em> I see why they call you Little Bella," the old wolf corrected herself. "Surely your parents did not condone that sort of behaviour!"</p>
<p>Aster shrugged. "Playing with Bella's weapons? No. Not unsupervised, at least. Unintentionally hurting each other? Eh, shite happens. Badly enough to need a healer? No, the rule was no casting curses we couldn't heal ourselves. Paying Cissy back in kind for bragging about a fucking accident? Not...<em>really</em>? I mean, they didn't want us to actually kill or cripple each other, but we were vicious little animals, and Walburga constantly pitted us against each other, competition spurring us on, you know? And Cissy takes literally everything too seriously and I have a tendency to get carried away on occasion, so by that age, if one of us hadn't nearly killed the other in the past week, it was a slow week. Anyway, that, Remy, is the story of the first time I had stitches. And the second time. And the first time Cissy had stitches, too. I'm pretty sure our healer thought we were both completely mad."</p>
<p>"That would be because you <em>are</em> both completely mad," Remy said drily.</p>
<p>"Well, yes, but he was on retainer with <em>the House of Black</em>, not sure what else he expected. Anyway, Remy, that took <em>months</em> to heal completely, I should be able to fix these bites in a couple of weeks. The thing I'm actually concerned about is, do you think Moony will remember I decided to get between him and his prey last night? Because it's one thing to sit around reading books and shite wounded for a couple of weeks <em>once</em>, but I'm not really cut out for spending two weeks of every month being all boring and academic like you."</p>
<p>Remus actually looked remarkably <em>well</em>. Bella had probably healed the few scratches and slices Aster had gotten on him while she was waiting for Aster to come back from her little chat with the Headmaster. And she didn't think he had any self-inflicted wounds this month. "I...don't know. I don't think he recognised you from last spring...but that might've been because it'd been a few months." He looked to the (presumably) more experienced werewolf.</p>
<p>"The Wolf will remember," she said, "because Remus remembers. But it will not seek vengeance against you if you don't come between it and its goals again. It has one priority, and <em>you</em> are not it. At least, not as a dog. Perhaps also not in this form, if you have been previously bitten and not turned. We thought it was only Bellatrix who is among humans so inexplicably immune to the Curse — an unexpected side-effect of some ritual or other, that she doesn't smell like <em>prey</em> — but perhaps there is something to that claim that there is too much magic in your blood to call you truly human."</p>
<p>"Who says <em>that?</em>" Aster wondered. She knew that people said too much magic in their blood was the source of the Black Madness (though Bella claimed otherwise). She hadn't heard that people thought the whole House was a little fae. God-touched, yes, but not actually preternatural themselves.</p>
<p>"Oh, just common folk of no significant note," the older woman drawled, implying that she was one of them, but if she'd been a commoner before she was turned, Aster was the muggle Queen. Commoners didn't use phrases like <em>it is only Bellatrix who is among humans so inexplicably immune</em>. They simply didn't. And they didn't have that perfect posture, either, or the well-trained grace she'd demonstrated moving to help Remus this morning, showing no hint of the pain she must still have been feeling in the wake of the Change. (Which, now she thought of it, really should've given away that Annie was a witch from the start. Sometimes Aster was just slow like that.)</p>
<p>"Uh-<em>huh</em>. Well, far be it from me to contradict common folk of no significant note, but as far as I know, we're human. Pretty much all descended from a metamorph, and I wouldn't be surprised if blood alchemy was used to make us more powerful at some point, but if there's actual fae or demon blood in the House, no one told <em>me</em> about it."</p>
<p>"<em>Would</em> they have?" Remy asked.</p>
<p>Aster shrugged. "Probably not. Either way, I'm working on the assumption that I'm not going to turn, because even if I am, that's a whole month from now. I'll put a note in my diary to remember to not be around people on the moon, but in the meanwhile, not really a problem. I mean, it's not like I can do anything about it <em>now</em>," she added, as Remus gave her an <em>I can't believe you just said that</em> look. "And I have more important things to worry about, anyway."</p>
<p>"Like <em>what</em>?!"</p>
<p>"Did you miss me mentioning the only reason I'm going back to school is so I can try to convince Dumbledore not to get Marley and Alice and Frankie and everyone killed fighting Bella? I thought I'd start with that. Also, Bella and de Mort have basically given Evans permission to stop even trying to act normal, so trying to keep her from getting herself arrested and executed as a black mage."</p>
<p>"Wait, what? Why would she—?"</p>
<p>"Oh, I figured Potter would've told you, you know, since he didn't hesitate to tell fucking <em>Dumbledore</em>, and all. Evans is a necromancer. Also, de Mort's kid. Bella's adopting her, it's this whole thing."</p>
<p>"Since <em>when?!</em>"</p>
<p>"Samhain? Or, well, I guess she's been a necromancer since she was tiny, her cat is totally undead, but we've known she's de Mort's kid since Samhain, and Bella decided pretty much immediately that she was Family, which is why I told James he couldn't turn Evans in as a black mage, because if Dumbledore believed him and Evans got slapped with a death sentence, Bella would've killed him. And he promised he wouldn't, and then he did <em>anyway</em>, because that cat-bastard has no honour and apparently doesn't consider a promise to <em>me</em> to be binding, because I scare him, so that means it doesn't count, so he's dead to me, now. Extra-dead, since if he hadn't put that stupid ward-gate in, you'd be up at the school, now.</p>
<p>"<em>Anyway</em>," she said quickly, before Remus could get all mopey again, "making sure Evans doesn't out herself or get Snape arrested on suspicion of murdering his father is more important than worrying about whether I'm a werewolf or not. And we should probably try to figure out something to do with <em>you</em>. I mean, I definitely think you'll be more comfortable with the Starlighters, but you're still going to have to stay here until the heat dies down and we can get you set up with a new wand and papers and shite. Might as well go and meet everyone else. It's got to be almost dinner time, right?"</p>
<p>Annie nodded.</p>
<p>"I don't know..."</p>
<p>"You should go," Aster urged the reluctant boy.</p>
<p>"I'm not really in the mood to go make friends, Aster. Actually, I'm <em>really not</em> in the mood. And I'm not at <em>all</em> sure I can eat with the man who ruined my entire life just– just trying to make some kind of sick <em>point</em>. And I don't want to be friends with people who could follow a man like that, anyway," Remy said firmly, glaring at her and Annie in turn, and then adding, when she simply gave him a soft, almost pitying look, not unlike the one Dumbledore had worn when faced with Evans, Cissy, and Aster pointing out that the Powers <em>definitely existed</em>, "Er. No offence."</p>
<p>The old woman sighed. "This is where we were before you arrived, Aster. I was attempting to explain that we all have our own reasons to remain with the Pack, beyond our personal respect for Fenrir. Chief among them that we <em>need</em> each other's support. Very few of us have accepted the Wolf as fully as the remaining members of Loki's pack. I can count on the fingers of one hand those of us who do not share your guilt and shame, at least to some degree, when we pass the Curse to a new victim. Who would refuse a cure if such a thing existed."</p>
<p>Remus had been making a valiant attempt to hold her eye defiantly, but at that, his gaze fell to his knees again. Aster was betting he was thinking that you'd have to be completely mad to turn down a cure, if it existed. He <em>had</em> said earlier that he'd kill for it, if he could, and Remy wasn't the sort of bloke who said things like that casually. Either that, or he was a little ashamed of thinking so poorly of the Pack as to assume they <em>wanted</em> to be werewolves. Aster was sure there were some who <em>did</em> like being wolves. She kind of suspected that she wouldn't mind, honestly. Remy obviously hated not being in control of himself, but Aster <em>liked</em> getting completely fucked up. Even if she did have to deal with the consequences in the morning, having an excuse to <em>not</em> have to control herself for a few hours was worth it. (Starting a brawl or an orgy and generally acting like every weekend was Walpurgis was apparently more acceptable when one had such an excuse, so.)</p>
<p>"Fenrir is not one of them. He <em>hates</em> humans, mages, the way they have treated him since the first day he was bitten, the first day he learned about magic and our world. And he embraces his Wolf, makes it part of his identity and owns that it is and ever will be a part of him, letting it give form to his rage and hatred. But he does not love it. He takes no pleasure in ruining the lives of others like his own life was ruined by Loki. That he <em>does</em> makes him hate himself nearly as much as he hates men like your father, whose fear and disgust have ruined all of our lives as much if not more than the Curse. The current attitudes toward us are too deeply ingrained in this society to change, at least within my lifetime, and probably also within yours. That your own father has continued to spew his hateful rhetoric, continuing to call for stronger punishments for minor crimes and further limiting our rights and opportunities, even now that his laws target his own son as well as the man who turned him, supports that analysis, I think."</p>
<p>Remus glowered at her, but he didn't really have it in him to try to defend his father. Yes, he knew — they all knew — that Mister Lupin didn't mean <em>Remus</em> when he talked about werewolves, he meant <em>Greyback</em>. He still thought he would find some way to cure Remus, or control him and hide him, so the laws he argued for wouldn't affect his son the way they did the monster who'd turned him (and every other werewolf in the country, who hadn't done anything to deserve their fate any more than Remus had). That didn't change the fact that he hadn't, <em>couldn't</em>, and Remus was <em>fucked</em>. Especially now that it was going to come out that he <em>was</em> a werewolf, now that he'd turned someone.</p>
<p>"He was young then, you know. Fenrir. Twenty-three? Twenty-four?" Oh, maybe he wasn't in such great shape, then, if he was only in his early thirties, now, Aster realised. "Young and <em>naïve</em>. He did — and does still — hate your father, of course. But he could not imagine, then, that a man would be so cruel as to sacrifice his own son on the altar of his bigotry. He thought that if Lyall Lupin's son were a werewolf, Lupin would be forced to see the error of his ways, reverse his position and argue for more lenient laws, improving all of our lives. He regretted the necessity of sacrificing your future, even at the time, or so Clarence says, but he regrets it all the more today, knowing that the sacrifice was wasted. I suspect that were you willing to speak to him, he would apologise. He wouldn't ask for your forgiveness, because he does not think he ought to be forgiven and would never expect you to grant it, but he would attempt to explain himself, in hopes that you would understand why he did as he did, and allow him to ameliorate your suffering as best he can. Allow us to help you understand the Wolf and learn to live with it."</p>
<p>"I wouldn't," Remus said coldly.</p>
<p>"You should," Aster found herself saying.</p>
<p>"<em>What?</em>" Remy hissed, turning to glare at her. "How can you—"</p>
<p>"Not let Greyback apologise. Let them try to help you. They aren't all <em>him</em>, and even he didn't <em>want</em> to be cursed." Aster was pretty sure Annie was telling the truth about that, but even if he was fucked up enough to <em>want</em> to be a werewolf, if he had a choice, he literally couldn't have chosen to become one in the first place — he was a muggle, he didn't know about magic <em>at all</em> before he was turned. "But I'm pretty sure he's right about the Curse being a part of you. You can't get rid of it any more than I can get rid of the Madness or the darkness in my soul, so you might as well try to learn how not to hate yourself for shite you can't change, right? Like <em>coping mechanisms</em> and shite."</p>
<p>Remus just glowered at her. "I agree. You talking to a mind healer is a <em>terrible</em> idea."</p>
<p>"No fucking shite? But I've realised Bella was right all along, Potter was always a terrible role-model, and trying to have morals only ever made me miserable, so I've decided to stop worrying about <em>being a good person</em>. Hopefully he'll sign off on me being more or less sane and I can stop talking to him in a couple of weeks."</p>
<p>"I...don't think that's how that works," said the boy who'd never talked to a mind healer in his life.</p>
<p>"Nonsense, Remy, of course it is. So are you going to dinner? Or are you going to pretend you're me and lie in bed wasting away for a few days before you cave and go eat something?"</p>
<p>He groaned, as though making him go talk to people he didn't already know was a <em>terrible</em> imposition, but let the Ball of Misery relax for the first time since Aster had arrived, stretching his legs and scooting to the edge of the bed. "<em>Fine</em>. I'm <em>not</em> going to make friends with them, though."</p>
<p>Aster just gave him a wry smirk. Yeah, and she definitely wanted nothing to do with anyone she'd known before Hogwarts. "Just keep telling yourself that, Remy."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Life and Death in Starlight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I still stand by my initial assessment that Remy would have been happier with the Starlighters from the start. It was, however, perhaps fortunate that circumstances prevented his joining them immediately. The community was always a bit...tenuous, their resources both financial and emotional practically always overextended. And they experienced a minor tragedy of their own on the full moon of November, Nineteen Seventy-Six. Those who would generally be expected to help a new refugee come to terms with life as a Starlighter were entirely preoccupied by their own problems, and little prepared to welcome and support anyone as wet as Remus. Let alone mind him as I suspect he would've needed, in order to keep him from turning himself in.</p><p>I also stand by my assessment that the poverty and hardship of Starlight, the <em>oppression</em>, would likely have been too much for Remus to bear at that point in his life. For all he suffered with his condition, he marginalised <em>himself</em> far more than did anyone else over the course of the years we shared at Hogwarts, attempting to keep a low profile and avoiding doing anything that might suggest he was anything other than a perfectly average, perfectly <em>human</em> teenage boy, with a distinctly paranoid degree of caution.</p><p>Starlighters are — were, I should say, but at this point in the story this was still the case — accustomed to newcomers to their society requiring a period to adjust to their new circumstances — hardly <em>anyone</em> who was turned came from the muggle slums they were often forced to live in, and even those who chose to abandon their human lives and join the Starlighters by choice tended to be...more privileged in their origins. Sure, there might have been less difference between being a cat or a bird in daylight society and in Starlight, but there was still <em>some</em> difference. And not many metamorphs <em>choose</em> to live in extreme poverty, when they can be young and beautiful and socially accepted (at least until they grow bored with <em>society</em>). That doesn't mean there isn't a degree of <em>resentment</em> from Starlighters who <em>don't</em> have a choice — or even sometimes today from <em>former</em> Starlighters who <em>didn't</em> have a choice (kids these days have it <em>much</em> easier, according to everyone who came to Avalon as British refugees) — toward those soft, pampered fools who saw Starlight as a change of pace, rather than a lifestyle any sane person would avoid, given the choice.</p><p>It's possible I was...less than well received, when I first stumbled into their community. The phrase "poncy human tourist" might as well have been my name over the first week or two of my hanging about, and I offended nearly everyone I spoke to at first, with my casual disregard for the material realities of their situation. My only saving grace was that I had no reservations about doing whatever I could to help — not as some sort of <em>charity</em>, which would be <em>exceedingly unwelcome</em> (and just as offensive as my entirely thoughtless comments about living like muggles and initial assumption they must at least have access to enough <em>food </em>for everyone), but simply because, well...<em>noblesse oblige</em>, basically. They weren't <em>my people</em>, as in explicitly my responsibility to care for (not <em>then</em>, at least), but the British nobility as a whole had a responsibility to the common people, generally speaking. Allowing Starlight to exist in such conditions was quite frankly <em>shameful</em>.</p><p>I daresay that their lifestyle was more shocking to me for the way it reflected on their social betters, myself included, than for the actual <em>experience</em> they suffered. I had been raised in luxury myself, of course, but...not to <em>expect</em> luxury, I suppose. The House of Black might have been the pinnacle of power and wealth (and therefore Society) by the time I was born, but the history I was taught, the priorities I was given as a child, made it clear that this had not always been the case, and might easily not be the case again at some point in the future. The survival of the House entailed in the Covenant did not equate to the <em>success</em> of the House — <em>that</em> was up to <em>us</em> to ensure.</p><p>Plus it wasn't exactly a secret that we — the House of Black — considered the overly-refined affectations of Society to be...well, overly-refined and affected. We might have been taught to play their silly social games, and to do so with the same degree of excellence we were expected to do everything else, but the House of Black were <em>warriors</em>, not <em>aristocrats</em> (at least in our own heavily mythologised conception of ourselves). What kind of warrior was more at home in a fancy fucking townhome than in a sparcely accommodated military encampment? No, the Starlighters' lifestyle might've been <em>surprising</em>, might've taken some getting used to in practice, but it never struck me as shocking and unbearable. The shocking thing was that that state of deprivation was allowed to exist within our own common population, in a time of peace and relative prosperity — forcing magical people, magical <em>children</em> to live like the poorest of muggles? I didn't know a single noble who, if presented with the problem in that light, would consider it anything other than <em>unconscionable</em>.</p><p>The Light refusing to recognise the personhood and therefore minimal rights of even non-citizens with respect to the upyri and werewolves was an extreme blow to my confidence in their moral superiority, and the fact that the Dark Houses didn't take it upon themselves to rectify the situation, but instead simply whinged about non-human rights in the Wizengamot and waited for the <em>Ministry</em> to do something about it — and make no mistake, if the Houses of Black, Lestrange, and Yaxley had chosen to do so, they <em>could</em> have made significant strides in providing basic necessities to the beleaguered Starlighters — was also horribly disillusioning.</p><p>The Starlighters weren't <em>our people</em>, our vassals or clients, we had no <em>explicit</em> responsibility to do so, that was true, but one would think that people who prided themselves on their superiority over non-magical people would hesitate to allow <em>any</em> magical population to languish in conditions well below those of the average muggle household in this day and age. That we had not achieved our position at the pinnacle of society by engaging in rampant <em>charity</em> was not an excuse for acting like a fucking mudblood (in the sense of considering muggle standards to be acceptable for <em>anyone</em>), and it was a fucking embarrassment that the fucking <em>Death Eaters</em> were doing more to provide for the commoners than the House of Black — or so I argued. Arcturus just told me to get the fuck out of his office and not come back until I managed to rid myself of my childish concern for the welfare of such impoverished deplorables. (<em>Bastard</em>.)</p><p>In any case, there was little enough I could do to help the Starlighters on my own, as the largely-disfavoured son of a wealthy Noble House. Charming a leaking roof to keep out water and enchanting blankets to retain warmth, making a few talismans to deflect the attention of muggles from the minor oddities in the appearance of upyri and werewolves' disfigurements — those were about the extent of my contributions before I was forced to flee to the Potters' in the wake of my destruction of the Covenant. Hardly anything, just fixing problems as they became immediately obvious to me, and the casual ease with which such minor miracles were accomplished — and the fact that I so unceremoniously disappeared midway through the summer, taking such help with me — rendered me even more of an elitist prick in some eyes, but it was enough that those not inlined to hate me simply for the advantages I'd been born with came to welcome me as an ally of sorts. Or at the very least, to acknowledge that I meant them no harm, and ignore me as perhaps annoying, a constant reminder of the inequalities inherent in our society, but not personally a threat to their safety and security. That was really the best an outsider, a <em>human</em>, could expect from them, given the realities of the situation.</p><p>As things stood in November of Nineteen Seventy-Six, I was as welcome in Starlight as any human could expect to be. It was hardly absurd for me to expect that, if I were to bring a fugitive to them, they would take him in (regardless of the potential danger his presence might pose in terms of increased official scrutiny). And when I came bearing a warning for the werewolves' leader, I had every expectation of being heard out.</p>
<hr/><p>"Hey, Connie, is Lady Em around?" Aster asked, poking her head into what passed for the front room of a tiny flat in a miserably run-down muggle apartment building to see an exhausted-looking man studying a tattered textbook by the dim light that filtered in through a grimy window.</p><p>About half the Starlight wolves lived here, in this building, at least for now — according to Maeve, an upyri girl Aster had struck up a somewhat more than casual friendship with over the summer. They usually moved a few times a year, as landlords kicked them out for failing to make rent or the Ministry cracked down on them renting from muggles without 'appropriate measures' in place to ensure the slum-lords who owned the places wouldn't realise they were renting to magical folk. Which was a load of bollocks, most of the wolves couldn't do magic at all — even the ones who were mages were almost completely untrained — and it wasn't as though they transformed anywhere near anyone they might be tempted to attack. Not to mention, Aster was pretty fucking sure the disgusting slugs who owned these buildings didn't set foot in them if they could help it, it'd be pretty fucking difficult for them to realise they were renting to werewolves even if they <em>did</em> do magic all the time.</p><p>Constantine, a wizard-wolf in his early twenties, looked up to give her an <em>I'm too tired to deal with you today</em> glare. He was one of the more presentable among the Starlight wolves — relatively young and handsome in an ambiguously Eastern European way, unscarred at least anywhere visible — and one of the more ambitious, with more contacts in the Underground than most and an obvious determination to learn as much magic as he could, studying in whatever odd free moments he could find. Aster had only met him in passing, but she knew he hadn't been formally educated. He spent most of his time doing odd jobs in the muggle world or the Underground. He was also relatively close to Morgen. Aster wasn't really sure what his deal was, but he was even more protective of the old lady than most of the Starlighters. It wasn't at all surprising that he was acting as her doorkeeper today.</p><p>He cocked his head to one side in obvious confusion. "Sirius?"</p><p>"It's Asteria, now. Long story. Well, not really, but not actually important, either. Where's Morgen?"</p><p>"It's not a great time, kid."</p><p>"It's <em>never</em> a great time for bad news. I wouldn't be here if it weren't important."</p><p>"How important are we talking, here? Because Grandmother had a bad night last weekend, get it? Got tore up by one of the new kids when he realised he was trapped."</p><p>Aster winced. She wasn't exactly an expert on werewolves, but the oldest, frailest wolf in the pack babysitting some angry, new-turned teenager sounded like a bad idea even to her. "<em>Seriously?</em> The <em>fuck</em>, Connie? Why'd you let her—"</p><p>"Piss off, Black," he snapped. "It wasn't <em>my</em> choice. She thought someone should keep him company on his first moon, stop him from tearing himself up over not being able to <em>run</em>, and an old lady like her would be less of a threat."</p><p>"How bad is it?" she asked, unable to hide her concern.</p><p>"Bad enough. Not much Pulaski can do for her until the new moon. He sewed her up, gave us some potion to help her sleep through the pain — she's hanging in there, but she's weak, and it's been a long fucking week." He sighed. "Look, what do you want?"</p><p>Pulaski was one of the Death Eaters' training healers, maybe their chief healer? She wasn't really sure, honestly, she didn't really keep up with the internal workings of the Organisation these days. He'd be the one running the Starlight clinic though, presumably. Almost all the Death Eaters thought Bella was completely mad for extending their resources to the Starlighters, though none of them would challenge her authority to do so. Pulaski, if Aster remembered correctly, actually supported the idea of a free clinic — it gave his trainees practice with the more day-to-day healing there wasn't much call for on a battlefield or the immediate aftermath, and he refused to promote his apprentices to mastery if they couldn't even heal a sinus infection or whatever.</p><p>"Is she conscious? Can I see her?"</p><p>"What the <em>fuck</em> is so important—"</p><p>"I just want to see she's okay, shite-for-brains, I'm not going to bother her with bad news when she's lying in hospital! Who's her second? They can deal with the possible impending visits from everyone's favourite Ministry goons. But I still want to see her."</p><p>Constantine, already peaky with exhaustion and worry, paled further at the thought of the Ministry coming in and roughing them up a bit yet again, maybe even before they could be healed from the moon. They tended to raid Starlight a few times a year, trying to catch them doing anything they could use as an excuse to arrest them and chuck them in Azkaban for a few months — or, failing that, just turn them out of whatever tenuous housing they'd managed to acquire — but they usually had the good grace to wait until the wolves had had a chance to recover from the moon, first. (Not really, the actual reason was that werewolves tended to be weaker and less aggressive around the new moon, without the Curse reinforcing their natural strength.) "Regulation and Control? What— Why're <em>they</em> going to be poking their noses in, pray tell?"</p><p>"They're complete morons, mostly. There was a werewolf attack in Hogsmeade last week. You know the friend I mentioned Dumbledore let in?" She'd mentioned over the summer — on one of the few occasions she'd spent much time talking to Morgen and her people at all, really — that they might be able to petition the Headmaster to take on a few more werewolf students, if there were any kids young enough in Starlight.</p><p>There weren't, as it turned out. Most little kids didn't survive getting Turned, and those who did, their families tended to try to take care of them on their own, like Remus's parents. Or, if they were nobility — light nobility, especially — quietly disposed of the little embarrassment. Muggle wolf-pups tended to get out of control and come to Ministry attention within a few months of being turned — and if, through some improbable stroke of luck, they <em>hadn't</em> yet passed on the Curse — they were often removed from their parents' custody, given over to a so-called 'Troubled Children's Home' to be raised by self-righteous arseholes like Remy's father. Most of them killed themselves before they were old enough to run away with any hope of success, find their way to Starlight or across the Channel.</p><p>Still, word had gotten around that there was a werewolf at Hogwarts, to mixed reactions. Envy was a big one, and hope that with the Chief Warlock on their side they might actually start to see some changes for the better in British law, but there were also quite a few who had (rightly) predicted that this was going to end <em>very</em> badly, for everyone involved.</p><p>Constantine nodded.</p><p>"Yeah, well, a certain reckless, self-centred <em>fool</em> let Moony out of his safehouse. He managed to bite someone down in Hogsmeade before I intercepted him. I'm pretty sure she went to St. Mungo's like a good little idiot daylighter and sold him out to R. and C. — Bella and I barely got Moony off the scene ahead of their sweep. He's with Fenrir's pack at the moment, and Dumbledore's going to point investigators in their direction, but who's betting they <em>won't </em>take the excuse to shake things up around here when they can't find them? I mean, it's not like they haven't been trying to find and take in the Underground wolves for the last five years." More than that, probably... "I guess it'll probably be a few days, even those morons won't expect Moony to've made it here from Hogwarts already. They've already been to scare the shite out of his parents, they don't know anything, obviously. I got a letter from them yesterday, asking if <em>I</em> know anything, so R. and C. probably think he's on his own, travelling overland on foot, <em>sans </em>magic to avoid the Trace, or injured and lying low until after the new moon or something. They might not even come sticking their noses in until next moon passes and there's no reports or anything and they know for sure he's got to be staying with <em>someone</em>. But I wanted to make sure I got here before they did, you know?"</p><p>Honestly, she'd been far more concerned about Remus and how he was handling his sudden exile from the daylight world and the necessity of staying at Ancient House (<em>not great</em>, honestly). It'd been the letter from the Lupins that'd reminded her the Ministry would still be looking for Remy and she should maybe give Starlight a heads-up, especially if she wanted them to be willing to take him in a couple of months.</p><p>The werewolf slouched back in his chair, massaging his temples. "<em>Fuck</em>. How's the kid holding up?" His eyes narrowed, flicking over Aster's stiff posture, the way she was keeping most of her weight off her injured leg. "How are <em>you</em> holding up? If you got between him and a human... He bit you, too, didn't he?"</p><p>"Was it the limping that gave it away?" she snarked. "Yeah, he did. He's fine. Well, angsty and miserable and kind of wants to turn himself in and commit suicide by capital punishment, but not <em>physically</em> hurt, and some older witch-wolf I hadn't met, Annie? is being all mumsy over him, so he'll <em>be </em>fine, anyway. I've got about a hundred sutures keeping my insides on the inside, in <em>both</em> forms — so that's <em>fun</em>. And people keep giving me <em>that</em> look, the one on your face right now, like I'm completely fucked and don't even realise it yet."</p><p>"Yeah, well, I know you're a couple cards short of a full deck, Black, but the Change is no picnic."</p><p>"So I'm told. And I'm also told that it doesn't matter that I was bitten in dog form, animagi are still human enough for the Curse to take, but this isn't the first time Moony and I've gotten a little carried away scrapping on the moon. Granted, I've never been bitten <em>this badly</em> before, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to Turn. So can I see Morgen before I go?"</p><p>Constantine just blinked at her, apparently shocked. "But— You're human. You can't <em>not</em> be— <em>What?</em>"</p><p>Aster gave him a crooked smirk. "Bella's immune to the Curse too, and she's as human as I am." Connie gave her a <em>very</em> doubtful look, probably because no one in Starlight actually thought of Bella as human. "Maybe it's just a Black thing. Apparently there's a rumour none of us are as human as we look — too much magic in our blood, makes us all a little fae, or something? Whatever, I advise not thinking about it too hard. So..."</p><p>The werewolf apparently decided that <em>not thinking about it too hard</em> was probably the best course of action. He shook his head as though to clear it, jerking his thumb at the doorway behind him. "Through there. If she's asleep, <em>don't</em> wake her up. Got it?"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah..." she muttered, limping past him.</p><p>"And keep it short, Black!" he called after her. "She needs to rest!"</p><p>She rolled her eyes, making her way through the small, dark room he'd pointed to, to a half-open door on the other side of it, the only other exit. She gave it a light tap, pushing it further open to reveal a slightly larger room.</p><p>The paper was peeling from the walls and several slats were missing from the shutters, letting in enough light to see that despite the condition of the building, some effort had been taken to keep this room cleaner than the other. No dust or cobwebs in the corners, and though there was a vague scent in the air that Aster associated with sick-rooms — herbal and not unpleasant, save for the association, mixed with the smell of a human body confined to a bed and washed somewhat less than thoroughly — and a faint whiff of piss — probably from a chamber-pot under the bed, she'd be shocked if there were indoor toilets, here — it wasn't musty or damp like she might expect for a room in a building like this. There was a narrow bed with a small side-table, a rickety-looking chair and a few hooks on one wall holding what was probably all the clothes Morgen owned. The quilt on the bed, covering a lump that was presumably the woman herself, was faded and worn, any pattern long-since lost under years of patches, but clean, and there was a new(-ish) candle on the bedside table, along with a pitcher and water-glass.</p><p>"Lady Morgen?" she called quietly, unable to see from here whether the lump was awake.</p><p>"Mmm, who's that?" the old woman muttered, her voice a sad, weak imitation of her usual commanding tone.</p><p>"It's Asteria— Sirius Black, I mean. I'm a girl now. Long story. How're you doing, Grandmother?"</p><p>"Been better, boy. Girl?" She clicked her tongue disapprovingly, one hand rising above the blanket to wave at the chair. "Well, come over here, don't make me sit up to see you!"</p><p>Aster chuckled, a small, deliberate <em>heh</em> that didn't jostle her wounds too badly, taking the offered seat. "Yeah, Connie out there mentioned you got in a fight on the full moon. Let me guess, I should see the other guy?"</p><p>Morgen sighed, squinting up at her. She looked <em>impossibly</em> tired, and even older than Aster remembered. "Arnold. Poor boy was... Are you sure you're a girl, now? You look exactly the same."</p><p>"I'm sure. And I'm shorter now, you just can't tell, all horizontal like that. What were you saying about Arnold?"</p><p>She let out a soft, coughing sort of laugh, then shook her head, rocking it slowly from side to side without rising from the pillow. "Sound the same, too. Arnie. Poor boy blames himself. Too new. Doesn't know the Wolf, yet. Doesn't understand...not his fault... Why're you here, child? Not just to visit an old lady, I'm sure."</p><p>"Ah, well, I was just going to ask what you know about how the Curse works on animagi," she said, casting about quickly for an excuse that wouldn't worry the old wolf. "But it's not urgent, I can come back after new moon. Pulaski's going to get his poncy old arse over here and get you fixed up then, yeah?"</p><p>She gave a heavy sigh. "Aye. Ten— No, nine more days?" Aster nodded. The old wolf gave another heavy sigh, the breath sounding rather laboured. "I'm getting too old for this. I should've– should've listened to Connie-boy when he— But young Arnold was— It's better he did this to me, not himself. I'm old. He'd have to live with the– with the pain, and the scars, longer...they never stop hurting, you know— It– It never stops..." A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.</p><p>Aster brushed it away with a gentle thumb, trying not to notice how thin and delicate her skin felt, wrinkling at the slightest touch. "Hey, now. It gets better. I know it doesn't stop, but it gets better. Where's your potion? Constantine said you have a potion for the pain..."</p><p>"Can't, yet. Not time. Just, water..." She raised a shaking hand toward the glass.</p><p>"Okay." Aster vanished the tepid liquid, refilling the glass with a quick <em>aguamenti</em>. "Can you sit up, Grandmother?"</p><p>She tried, struggling against the blankets to push herself a few inches higher, the top of her head pressing against the wall, leaving her neck at what had to be an uncomfortable angle.</p><p>"Hey, hey, wait a second." How did that charm go, again? Oh, right... "<em>Area apergion!</em>" she incanted, indicating the area of the bed with a few quick flicks, the force of gravity within it immediately reduced by half.</p><p>"Oh!" Morgen gasped. "That does— It's easy to forget, sometimes, how wondrous magic can be..."</p><p>Kind of an odd thing to say, Aster thought. She'd kind of assumed Morgen was a witch — there weren't, as a rule, too many muggles around called <em>Morgen</em>. But she didn't have a wand any more than Constantine — the wolves, and the lower classes in general, tended to use more witchcraft than wizardry. To have forgotten how amazing magic could be, though, kind of implied she'd once spent a <em>lot</em> more time around proper wizardry. Maybe she was a squib? Or if she'd been turned young, she could've been chucked out of her family before she really started to learn magic herself, Aster guessed. Not that it was <em>terribly</em> important.</p><p>"It doesn't last very long." It didn't actually <em>last</em> at all, <em>per se</em>. It took effect suddenly, and then started fading out of effect immediately, but slowly and gently enough it was barely noticeable. (Rather than gravity suddenly reasserting itself and slamming anyone in the area of the spell to the ground if they weren't expecting it.) She shifted herself to the edge of the bed to help the old woman reposition herself, propping her up with a quickly-conjured pillow before she grew too heavy again.</p><p>"Thank you, dear..."</p><p>Aster didn't respond, too busy hissing in sympathy as the blanket shifted, revealing a series of long, neatly sutured slashes across her chest and ribs, dressed in translucent, spider-silk gauze (the good stuff, probably used so the wolves could keep an eye on whether the wounds looked like they were getting infected). There were a couple of deep-looking length-wise cuts on her left forearm, too — lucky she hadn't bled to death from those — and a few <em>very</em> ugly, torn punctures around her shoulder. Her left hand was curled around a splint, immobilised. If Aster had to guess...Morgen had been on her back, the other wolf had gone in for the kill, and she'd clawed at his face to save her neck, got her paw crushed instead.</p><p>"Water?"</p><p>"Wh— Yes, here." She had to help the broken wolf steady the glass as she raised it to her lips one-handed.</p><p>After a few awkward moments, Morgen let her head tip back against the wall.</p><p>"Lady Em? You okay?"</p><p>"Mmm, I think I should lie down again..."</p><p>Aster renewed the charm first, but by the time the old woman settled onto her back again, her eyes were already drifting closed, her face tight with pain and exhaustion. She relaxed slightly under the influence of a sleeping charm. Constantine was right, the best thing anyone injured <em>this</em> badly could do was rest.</p><p>...Though she couldn't quite stop herself peeking under the quilt to see how bad <em>this badly</em> actually was. Her legs looked even worse than her arms, flanks torn and savaged. Forget being lucky she hadn't bled out from her forearm, she was lucky she hadn't lost her left leg. With the way werewolf wounds scarred and the tearing around her knee, she probably wasn't going to walk again. Not without a cane, at least. It was bad enough Aster suspected Pulaski wouldn't push her through healing it all in a single day — Morgen was <em>old</em>, her body couldn't handle rebuilding itself so quickly — so she was going to have to wait <em>another</em> whole month, after this month's new moon, and then there was the issue of what damage she might do to herself on the full moon before she was completely healed...</p><p>Constantine appeared in the doorway right around the time Aster was tucking the bedding back around the fragile, broken woman. He looked almost as broken as she did, if in a very different way. "She's sleeping?"</p><p>Aster nodded. "Getting water exhausted her, so I knocked her out."</p><p>"Good." He jerked his head back toward the front room, rubbing his face as though attempting to wake himself up, or maybe keep from crying. The Starlighters didn't call Morgen <em>Grandmother</em> for nothing — she'd been the wolves' matriarch for <em>decades</em>. There was no one left who was older, or who had been a wolf longer, she was a <em>fixture</em> to the Starlight wolves, basically their adopted mother. And Aster wasn't really an expert healer, or even very good at judging wounds on other people, but that amount of damage would be bad for <em>her</em>. On <em>Morgen</em>, it looked like she was <em>dying</em>.</p><p>"What odds did Pulaski give her on making it to the new moon?" she asked, keeping her voice low and quiet.</p><p>"Fifty-fifty. He said if she made it through the first night, she had a chance, but..." He shook his head, collapsing back into his chair. "I don't know if she's going to make it, Black. She's barely eating, you saw how hard it is for her... We managed to make rent this month, but if the Ministry raids us, kicks us out before new moon..."</p><p>Right. It wasn't much of a secret Regulation and Control would throw even the most law-abiding werewolves out on the street if they could come up with the <em>least</em> excuse. And if they'd already paid for this flat, they likely wouldn't have money to take another for her, so she'd be out on the street, or crammed into another already-overcrowded set of rooms... (It was a little weird that it was just Morgen and Constantine here at the moment, but Aster suspected more wolves would make their way here to crash come nightfall.) R and C would probably think it a good thing if Morgen died of exposure before she could be healed. Aster had actually <em>heard</em> those bastards — older Gryffindors who'd joined the Department after leaving school, at least — say that the only good werewolf was a dead werewolf.</p><p>"There might be something I could do," Aster found herself saying, making the offer without really thinking it through.</p><p>She realised it might be a bad idea as soon as Constantine, all suspicion and reluctant hope, asked "What?" but she wasn't going to take it back.</p><p>"Ah...soul magic. Well, kind of like halfway between blood magic and soul magic? Not healing her, I don't have any idea how to do something like that, even <em>without</em> the Curse mucking shite up, but I'm pretty sure I can make sure she makes it to the new moon."</p><p>"<em>How?</em>" Aster flinched, slightly taken aback by the raw desperation in his voice. "Pulaski said there wasn't— <em>Tell me</em> you're not fucking with me, Black!"</p><p>"I'm not! It's, ah, Pulaski wouldn't consider trying it because, well, he'd probably be worried about the Curse spreading to himself. And he's kind of getting old and frail, too. And he's also not really the self-sacrificing <em>type</em>. It probably wouldn't even occur to him, honestly."</p><p>"What. Are. You. <em>Talking</em>. About?"</p><p>"Well...using blood magic — sympathy, basically — to bind the two of us to each other, her life-force to mine, make a conduit between us so she can't die unless <em>I</em> die. Basically let her draw energy off me to sustain herself, heal faster." She'd have to talk to Pulaski to find out for sure, but it might actually let him pull her all the way through the healing process this month, rather than waiting until <em>next</em> month, which would <em>definitely</em> help.</p><p>"That sounds...dangerous," the man said grudgingly, as though he knew he ought to tell her it was actually a bad idea, but didn't want to if it had even the slightest chance of helping.</p><p>"No shite? It's not as dangerous as you're probably thinking, though. I'm a lot younger than she is. I'm physically stronger, and my soul burns brighter than hers."</p><p>"<em>Burns brighter</em>?" he repeated.</p><p>"Er... If you look at us with magic, there's more energy in my metaphysical being than hers, even taking the Curse into account." Aster didn't really have to <em>look</em> to know that, she could count on one hand the people she'd met who were brighter than herself (and she was related to most of them). "It won't be <em>comfortable</em> for me, but it shouldn't hurt me, really. It'll just make me really tired for a few days."</p><p>And probably hungry. And it might actually make her a little soul-sick, like coming off of a viv high, essentially keeping someone else lit up for over a week. (Theoretically, she'd never actually tried viv — contrary to popular belief, there were some drugs even <em>she</em> thought were a Bad Idea to play around with.) And it would probably slow her own healing down considerably. But if it got <em>too</em> bad, she could lean into the Family Magic to take the strain off herself — advantages of so many of their wards being blood-based — and it wasn't as though <em>she</em> could heal herself until the new moon either.</p><p>"But you're already injured, and you said the Curse might spread— Is there— Could <em>I</em> do it, instead, this spell?"</p><p>"...Maybe? There's not really a <em>spell</em>, as such. It's just...power, focus, and intent. Deep, primal magic." She paused to let Constantine respond, if he thought he could do it. He hesitated. Just as well — she doubted he was actually prepared to do it, even if he thought he might be able to. "It's really not the sort of thing you want to try for the first time with something as important as this. I'll do it. I'm not in the habit of making offers I don't intend to follow through on, and I'm pretty sure if <em>actually getting bitten</em> doesn't turn me, this won't either."</p><p>The man gave her a grim nod. "Do it, then. If it might help her...do it."</p><p>Aster gave him a one-shouldered shrug, avoiding pulling at the cut running up the back of her neck. "I don't know if it will help her, but it can't hurt, I don't think," she assured him, stumping back to the werewolf matriarch's sick-room. Conjuring a few balls of light had her eyes blinking open, though she didn't really seem to be focusing quite well enough to follow Aster's explanation of what she intended to do.</p><p>Though that might've been Aster's explanation. She seemed to understand just fine when <em>Constantine </em>explained, cutting out her tendency to meander. At least enough to object.</p><p>"That's— No, dear, I can't let you—"</p><p>"Sure you can. You don't even have to do anything, really. Though I guess we should probably test if it works, first, me lighting you up." She closed her eyes to focus for a second, envisioning reddish purple flames flickering into life in her hand and <em>pushing</em>— Constantine's gasp let her know it had worked even before she opened them again. "Here, hold out your hand."</p><p>"What is...?" the old woman asked, staring at the fire as though transfixed, a cautious finger reaching toward it as though of its own accord.</p><p>"Soulfire? It's...magic. Energy. <em>Life</em>." She turned the old woman's hand palm-up, tipped the fire into it. "And I'm giving it to you." It sank into her skin like water into sand. It might've been Aster's imagination, but she thought a bit of colour might've come back into the old werewolf's cheeks. It definitely <em>wasn't</em> her imagination that Morgen relaxed a bit, some of the pained lines easing around her eyes. "Feel it?"</p><p>"It's...<em>warm</em>," she sighed, fingers ghosting over her heart.</p><p>Aster giggled. (<em>Ow.</em>) "Of course it is, it's <em>fire</em>." Actually, that wasn't <em>entirely</em> obvious. When Bella lit <em>her</em> up — which she'd only done a handful of times, when Aster was little and Bella was especially <em>up</em> and wanted company — it felt more <em>electric</em> than warm, and the Yule ritual was painfully dark-cold, like some kind of <em>anti</em>-fire. But this was life freely given with the <em>intent</em> to sustain, not stolen and violently transformed into raw energy to feed the Family Magic (and by extension, the Family). It <em>should</em> be warm. Pleasant.</p><p>"Please, Grandmother," Connie said, voice tight. Strained. He was doing a pretty good job not <em>looking</em> completely distraught, but Aster could still tell.</p><p>"No, child. You shouldn't— You're hurt yourself, don't waste your magic on a broken old thing like me."</p><p>Aster pouted at her. "Don't be stupid, Grandmother. Do you <em>want</em> to die?"</p><p>It might've been her imagination, but she kind of thought the old woman hesitated a little too long before saying, "No...no, of course not..." and then after another moment's hesitation she added, "I'm old, child. And...tired. If it's my time... Death won't take kindly to your keeping me from him."</p><p>"I know someone who can put in a good word for me," Aster responded, as drily and disapprovingly as she could manage. Honestly, she wasn't all that surprised, really, that the old wolf was ready to die. Changing every month took a toll on a person, and being the rock all the other wolves leaned on probably didn't help.</p><p>"I— <em>Grandmother</em>..." Constantine didn't seem to know what he wanted to say, falling to his knees at her side.</p><p>"There, there, Connie-boy, don't cry for me, there's a good lad..."</p><p>"Grandmother, <em>please</em>, don't <em>leave us!</em> Don't—" His voice broke.</p><p>"Hush, Connie... Hush, now. I don't want to leave you. But...when it's time...if it's time...I won't put it off."</p><p>"Are you sure? You're not just saying so because you don't want to be a burden or something, are you?" Aster asked. "Because you won't be, I offered, it's <em>fine</em>."</p><p>"You're a sweet one, child, but no. What will be, will be. And I'm tired..." Her eyes fluttered shut again, her good hand clasped gently between Constantine's.</p><p>Aster sighed in defeat. (<em>Ow.</em>) If Morgen didn't want her help, she wasn't about to <em>force</em> it on her. Keeping her alive if she wanted to die would be...cruel. "Maybe we should just...let her rest?"</p><p>He shook his head. "You go. I'm... I'm going to stay with her. Just a while longer."</p><p>She nodded, turning for the door. What else was there to say?</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>Well, there was <em>that</em>, she supposed. "Don't thank me," she muttered. "I did little enough. Sleep well, Grandmother. Constantine." She tipped her head toward him in a more formal farewell.</p><p>Morgen might've already been unconscious, it was hard to tell, but Connie nodded. "Black."</p><p>"...I'll see myself out."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Mind Healers are Bastards</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Morgen didn't die, not then, though it would be weeks until I learned that for certain, making a quick trip to Starlight after the new moon bearing gifts of meat and wine — fruits of my having been adopted by Bella and regaining a position within the Family which entitled me to withdraw money from our vaults, and the makings of either a celebratory or mourning feast. (Honestly, bringing food to hungry people is hardly ever an <em>inappropriate</em> gift, regardless of the occasion.) And though she managed to pull through without my help, I like to think that making the offer, with every intention of fulfilling it, won me some degree of good will from Constantine — Morgen herself had already known I held nothing but innocent intentions toward her people, though she considered me as much a silly child as anyone.</p>
<p>Constantine, like Fenrir, never had much use for humans. He was always civil enough to me, of course — I had been a guest, after all, on the previous occasions we'd interacted — but if he was willing to admit (even grudgingly) that I was one of the (very few) good ones, well, so much the better. Though it might also have been that my being bitten and not turning convinced him that I wasn't <em>actually human</em>, for all I clearly passed for one. It <em>really</em> could go either way.</p>
<p>I've kept that relatively quiet, over the years. My immunity to the Curse. It's known well enough that I've been bitten, but most people, including myself before Dumbledore enlightened me, simply think animagi immune in their animal forms. Bella <em>hasn't</em> kept it quiet that <em>she's</em> immune, but no one actually thinks Bella's human. (Despite both of us being Blacks and people comparing us more or less <em>constantly</em>, I still <em>am</em> thought of as essentially human, for some odd, inexplicable reason — all the more odd given that I've spent <em>considerably </em>more time actually living <em>with</em> Starlight than she has.) If my immunity were replicable, I would, of course, have publicised it more widely, but if Bella's theory of its origin is correct — and all evidence suggests that it is — any attempt to replicate it is far more likely to result in disaster than any sort of preventative spell to preemptively counter the Curse.</p>
<p>Not that my <em>not</em> being a werewolf holds much import for the story. Nor was it terribly important to me personally, at the time, though it was rather annoying, so many people making a big deal over it...despite the fact that <em>not </em>being a werewolf <em>is</em> rather the expected state of things.</p>
<p>Truth be told, it wasn't even terribly important to me personally, at that point, whether Morgen lived or died. We'd spoken on two earlier occasions — I <em>liked</em> her, respected her, certainly enough to wish her well when I heard she was injured — but she wasn't <em>my</em> adoptive grandmother. My impulsive offer to support her through her healing was based almost entirely on the same desire to help, to stop the Starlighters' lives becoming <em>even worse</em>, as my efforts over the summer. I simply couldn't stand there and look the miserable Constantine in the face and say <em>I'm sorry</em> and walk away, knowing I might be able to help. (And yes, I know that's ridiculous, that there's a hell of a difference between supporting the life of a dying woman at the risk of my own and casting a few waterproofing charms, but that's the Black madness for you — all or nothing, with no hesitation.) If Morgen herself was ready to cross the river, though...well, that really wasn't my business.</p>
<p>Visiting Morgen <em>did</em> put things in a somewhat different perspective for me, though. Reminded me that my feelings toward James Potter and Bella and the Death Eaters and Evans weren't <em>actually</em> a matter of life and death, no matter how much they might seem like it in isolation.</p>
<p>All told, I was in a <em>much</em> better state of mind when I visited Mind-Healer McKinnon the next day than I had been at our previous meeting. Enough to admit aloud what Evans had already come to mean to me — which was significant for <em>me</em>, even if no one was actually <em>surprised</em>. Well, no one except McKinnon.</p>
<p>(For a legilimens, and one who <em>specialises in mind-healing</em> on top of that, John McKinnon is kind of shite at reading people.)</p>
<hr/>
<p>"Dorea? What are you doing here?" Aster asked, despite having a pretty good guess in mind already. It kind of looked like an ambush, especially given that grim little expression on her face when Aster entered the little parlour/annex/waiting area that separated Healer McKinnon's office from the main corridor.</p>
<p>It wasn't a surprise that Zee was here, Aster had asked <em>her</em> to come sit in on her appointment today. Begged, really. She really, <em>really</em> hated legilimency, and especially <em>letting</em> someone legilimise her. The very idea was freaking her out more than usual this week, probably because she was already pretty seriously wounded, physically. Evans had suggested that being <em>psychically</em> vulnerable too was just too much, which...seemed plausible.</p>
<p>Yes, Bella said she could just ask McKinnon to stop, but he would probably ask <em>why</em>, and she didn't think she had a good reason other than <em>if you don't I might stab you</em>, and telling him that would <em>definitely</em> make him think she was unstable. And Aster really needed him to not think that if he was ever going to agree that she didn't actually need to talk to him. So she needed someone there to help her stay calm and not freak out over the fucking mind-healer hovering just inside her awareness and <em>watching</em> and making it impossibly fucking clear that she was <em>completely powerless</em> — not because she literally couldn't do anything to kick him out of her mind, but because there would be <em>consequences</em> if she did— It made her want to scream. She wasn't even in the room yet, and she <em>already</em> wanted to scream.</p>
<p><em>Anyway</em>, she'd decided that it would be a good idea to ask someone to come with her. Preferably someone who could explain that Aster dragging them in to make sure she didn't lose her shite was actually Aster being very responsible and doing literally everything she could to not fuck up the mind-healing thing, rather than Aster being an irrationally terrified, dangerously unstable child who couldn't be trusted to <em>not stab healers</em> without someone there to mind her.</p>
<p>She would've asked Evans, but Evans had a prefect thing, and Zee had more experience with mind-healers anyway.</p>
<p>It wasn't really surprising, either, that they were chatting amiably, since they were the only two people in the waiting room. Or at least <em>talking</em>. Zee was doing the perfectly poised polite conversation thing, practising the art of saying nothing very elegantly, just hinting and implying and misleading with a particular tone <em>here</em> and a suggestive smile <em>there</em> to make her point — something about her posture gave it away before Aster caught a single word she was saying, just reminded her almost <em>viscerally</em> of Druella. Superficially vapid, but actually aware of every nuance of the conversation and entirely in control of the room. (Auntie Dru, Aster was pretty sure, liked Zee a lot more than she liked Bella.) Dorea, on the other hand, looked rather suspicious and put out with Zee, a certain degree of aggression in the set of her shoulders and the angle of her chin. Looked like she didn't much like the tone of whatever Zee had been implying.</p>
<p>But it was kind of surprising that Dorea had thought it necessary to ambush her at her bloody mind-healing appointment, just to talk to her.</p>
<p>Zee left off immediately, rising to glide over to Aster — definitely doing the Society lady thing, normally she more sort of <em>sashayed</em> — taking up both of her hands and letting her left cheek brush Aster's as she kissed the air beside her ear, then the right. "Asteria! How are you, darling? I was beginning to think I'd misremembered the time!"</p>
<p>"Apologies, Mira," she said, playing along. "I was unavoidably delayed." By a pervasive sense of dread surrounding the idea of coming here, mostly. "Though I think I'm not <em>quite</em> late, yet. Thank you for agreeing to join me today."</p>
<p>"Nonsense, I'm happy to do it. I've been meaning to come congratulate Hannah on attaining her mastery, you know."</p>
<p>She didn't. She had no idea who Hannah was. Nor did she particularly care, honestly. Before she could politely inquire, Dorea interrupted far more bluntly. "So you are here to speak to Aster."</p>
<p>Zee gave a noncommittal hum. Apparently she wasn't confirming or denying anything to do with Aster, which was nice of her, though not really necessary. "I asked her to sit in on my meeting with Healer McKinnon to maybe give a more...objective perspective on certain recent events."</p>
<p>"And which 'recent events' might those be?" Dorea asked pointedly. "I must admit, I'm starting to feel rather left out of the loop. Might they include your apparent decision to embrace the Cause after all and visiting Ancient House multiple times over the past week and a half? Or perhaps the fact that you seem to have decided that your friendship with James is irreparably damaged, that you'd rather cast your lot in with de Mort's necromancer brat? And <em>why</em> are you <em>limping?</em>"</p>
<p>Aster glared at her, flicking off a couple of privacy spells to augment the enchantments already (obviously) worked into the wards of the room (extensions of the office wards which were designed to put patients at ease). "I'm <em>limping</em> because I'm <em>injured</em>, <em>obviously</em>, and your son is both dead to me and a colossal idiot. Whatever he's told you, I'd treat with <em>absolute</em> skepticism — he's been making a habit of leaving out details which might damage others' perception of him lately. I'm not <em>embracing the Cause</em> — I suppose you got that from Dumbledore?" They hadn't actually had that philosophical discussion yet, but she suspected she'd already made him a bit distrustful of her, questioning him and siding with Cissy and Evans in their little chat and so on. "If he manages to convince me he's not just as full of shite as every other bloody politician in the world, I might yet join his Order. Though I suppose I wouldn't be welcome, if this is the reception I'm getting from the woman who's been more a mother to me over the past five years than the woman who bore me. And how would <em>you</em> know I've been to Ancient House?"</p>
<p>"Well, you were hardly <em>discrete</em>, dear. When the Blackheart's favoured baby cousin spends an entire afternoon playing war games with her, there <em>will</em> be speculation. Certain circles are more pleased than you can imagine that you've given up your foolhardy flirtation with the Light." Hardly surprising, but who the hell would be pleased that she was (apparently) coming around and had <em>told Dorea</em> that she'd been over to Ancient House? Especially multiple times? The fucking elves? They wouldn't— Oh, wait, they <em>would</em> spy on her for Walburga. Well, they probably weren't actually <em>spying</em> so much as complaining about Bella taking her back after she struck a blow against the Family Magic itself — the elves were more upset with her breaking the Covenant than any of the human members of the House. They wouldn't be pleased she was 'coming around', but Wally would, and she'd want to rub Dorea's face in the fact that <em>she</em> couldn't handle Aster, either. "And why haven't you had yourself healed? We <em>are</em> in a hospital, surely you encountered several competent healers as you made your way here today."</p>
<p>"None sufficiently competent to heal <em>werewolf</em> bites, unfortunately." She kept speaking over Dorea's horrified gasp. "Your idiot spawn let a certain Furry Little Problem loose on Hogsmeade last weekend, so I had to go do something obnoxiously Gryffindorish."</p>
<p>"Siri— Aster, I mean, I'm– I'm so sorry," she stuttered, her attitude making an abrupt about-face, catty to concerned.</p>
<p>"If that's so, you can find some way to make your son recognise the full impact of his actions. I'll be fine, but Moony can never go home now, and the woman he bit is equally fucked, or nearly so."</p>
<p>"You'll be <em>fine</em>? Asteria, it's one thing to change sexes, becoming a werewolf is—"</p>
<p>Aster cut her off with a (painful) snort. "Well, if I'd known that all I had to do to get people to see how trivial the sex-change is was get bitten by a werewolf... Well, no, I wouldn't have done it on purpose — I <em>hate</em> chirurgery, and I've currently got about a hundred sutures holding me together." She'd thought it couldn't get worse than the second-day pain and stiffness, but the stitches were starting to <em>itch</em>, now. And constantly being <em>careful</em> and <em>slow</em> was <em>exhausting</em>. "But it's not <em>that</em> big a deal. I'll be able to heal them on the new moon."</p>
<p>"But, if you were bitten... She's in denial?" she asked Zee. Not an unreasonable concern, probably, given that Constantine hadn't thought it possible for her to <em>not turn</em>, either. (Though he had been somewhat more willing to accept at face value that it wasn't a big deal than Dorea likely would be.)</p>
<p>Zee shrugged, apparently having given up on her Society lady game. "I rather doubt it. I understand Aster has reason to believe she's immune to the Curse — and even were she not, I can think of few people better suited to living with the Wolf." Well, good to know Zee agreed with her on that point, Aster guessed.</p>
<p>"That's not— If there were some way to confer immunity—"</p>
<p>"There's not," Aster cut her off. "I don't know <em>why</em> I'm immune, and I don't want to become a subject down in the Department of Mysteries, so don't go telling people. All I know is I've been bitten before and not caught it, so. Being wounded is slightly miserable, but I'm not really concerned."</p>
<p>"Bella's immune, too," Zee volunteered, in the face of Dorea's disbelief. "I believe she was actually slightly disappointed when she realised she couldn't be Turned. Not that she'd ever admit it, of course."</p>
<p>Aster rolled her eyes. Not that she was surprised, really — <em>she</em> didn't think it sounded that terrible, being a werewolf, and Bella was even less sane than she was. The physical Change would probably be the worst part, she figured, and Bella had already spent <em>years</em> shattering every bone in her body learning to use her runic augmentation thing, she probably didn't find the prospect of being violently transformed into a wolf all that daunting. "Apparently there's a theory that the Blacks aren't properly human?" she offered, half-hoping Dorea would confirm whether that was true. Not whether they were human, but whether people outside the House thought so. She didn't, though, so Aster moved on. "Though it could be just, you know, humans who <em>don't</em> change get written off as dog attacks or something. Not like there are a lot of people around <em>volunteering</em> to be bitten to test it..."</p>
<p>Before they could speculate any further, they were interrupted by Healer McKinnon and a young-ish wizard with apprentice trim on his uniform robes and a slightly troubled expression on his face. He slipped past them with barely a nod, presumably back to work.</p>
<p>"Sorry about that," McKinnon said, looking from one of them to the next, a questioning eyebrow raised, obviously wondering why Dorea and Zee were there. "Lost track of the time, there." So had Aster, though she didn't think his last meeting could possibly have run over <em>that</em> long. "Dorea? Mirabella?"</p>
<p>Dorea answered first, sounding slightly embarrassed, perhaps a bit ashamed of herself. "Hello, John. I was just hoping to catch Asteria alone for a few minutes before her meeting with you."</p>
<p>"Because...?"</p>
<p>Dorea huffed, eyes darting over to Zee. "Family drama, what else? It seemed...advisable to keep any such encounter...discrete."</p>
<p>Zee gave her an exasperated sigh. "I suppose you're concerned about Bella's reaction to your continued presence in Asteria's life?" From the way Dorea hesitated, Aster suspected that was a yes. Zee apparently thought the same. "You needn't be. She <em>is</em> rather disgusted with you, but Aster's hardly a child anymore. She doesn't need to be protected from the meanest contact with individuals Bella finds repulsive. Good afternoon, Professor."</p>
<p>"She threatened to abandon my son in the Shadows if he so much as spoke to Aster again, Miss Zabini! I think my concern is warranted!"</p>
<p>"She hasn't threatened <em>you</em> with a similar fate for approaching Asteria, has she?"</p>
<p>She better not have. Though Aster wasn't really looking forward to whatever discussion Dorea had been intending to hold before they'd gotten side-tracked by the werewolf thing, either. "James is a special case, Dorea. And anyway, that was before he proved that he's the world's biggest <em>idiot</em>. She didn't want him talking to me because he might've dragged me back <em>down</em>. But it's fine now. His opinion of me doesn't matter anymore, I'm over him. I mean, I still don't want to have anything to do with him, I'm totally okay with making him go through Evans to talk to me, but. I <em>have</em> been answering your letters, haven't I?" She had. There had been three in the past week alone.</p>
<p>"You haven't been very <em>forthcoming</em> in answering my letters! I was concerned!"</p>
<p>"Well, that's just because I don't have anything to say that I think you want to hear, and you always think I'm lying when I say I'm fine and you don't need to worry about me."</p>
<p>"I don't think you're lying, I think your perspective is limited. And you can tell me anything, Asteria. You shouldn't— You don't have to <em>hide things</em> from me because you think I don't want to hear them."</p>
<p>"Uh-<em>huh</em>. So you'd take it well, then, if I were to tell you that I've decided to stop feeling guilty about not being a good person, according to the Light? Because, see, James is dead to me, and I was only ever trying to live up to his example, anyway. Not much point hating myself when I don't care what he thinks of me anymore. Also, turns out he's a bloody terrible example — I don't think I'm really cut out for being a feckless, carefree idiot, you see."</p>
<p>Zee gave her a supportive smile. In her response to Aster's letter asking her to come today, she'd said something along the lines that she was glad to see Aster deciding to reject James's example, because people as powerful and potentially dangerous as her didn't have the luxury of acting without thinking. Not if they cared at all about the destruction they could cause and the lives they could ruin by doing so. James might have carelessly ruined Remus's life, and that of the woman he'd bitten, but Aster could easily kill people if she let herself simply <em>react </em>to their idiocy — or worse, decided to act as selfishly as he had with his fucking ward gate. Not that she was terribly inconvenienced by anything it would ruin people's lives to circumvent, but that was kind of the point. The selfish desires <em>she</em> would indulge if she cared so little about the consequences, about the lives and welfare of other people, were much...<em>darker</em>. Doing things just because she wanted to was a <em>terrible</em> idea.</p>
<p>Which, Aster kind of knew that. No one had really said as much before Bella pointed out that she <em>needed</em> limits and structure in her life, but looking at her childhood in hindsight — the explicitly defined expectations and rules for interacting with people; lessons she'd been taught so early she didn't even remember learning them (focusing exercises, occlumency, decision-making priorities); even the rigid schedules for studying and practising magic that Walburga and Dru insisted on — it was pretty clear that learning discipline and self-control was a major underlying theme. That <em>your actions have consequences</em> was also a big one, though mostly with a focus on the consequences <em>for yourself and the House</em> rather than for other people.</p>
<p>It was still reassuring to know that Zee approved, though.</p>
<p>Especially because Dorea's reaction was...pretty much the opposite. "<em>What?!</em> Asteria! You— Are you telling me that you <em>are</em> giving up on the Light? That you <em>want</em> to go back to being as evil as the rest of the House?"</p>
<p>Aster flinched under her heavy disapproval, letting her eyes drop to Dorea's shoes. She might not care quite as much what Dorea thought of her, compared to James — compared to how much she <em>had</em> cared about James, whatever — but it still wasn't nice to hear that her godmother thought she was fucking <em>evil</em>. Especially since she was trying to explain, acting like she was some good little Light witch who naturally knew right from wrong and reasonable from unreasonable, and therefore probably wouldn't fuck anything up too badly by accident if she just went along doing whatever <em>felt </em>right and reasonable, just didn't work for her. Going back to the Dark, to the principles and priorities she knew made <em>sense</em>, rather than trying to follow the Potters' vaguely-defined morality and be a <em>good person</em>, would probably cause <em>less</em> harm in the long run. But this was probably one of those things where the Light would say you had to do the counterproductive thing to make a point, and that was more important than actually doing the thing that maximised what they claimed was 'good' — minimising harm or saving lives or whatever. (Also, trying to be Light made her head hurt.)</p>
<p>Zee clicked her tongue, drawing Dorea's attention back to her. "In case you were wondering, <em>this</em> is why she didn't tell you, Dorea — because she doesn't <em>like</em> being told that she's <em>wrong</em> for simply living according to her nature, rather than twisting herself into painfully unnatural contortions to fit into your neat little picture of what is <em>good </em>and <em>right</em>." Aster didn't think she'd ever heard Zee sound more <em>scornful</em> than she did right there. "Because everything you say to her tells her that she ought to be ashamed of what she is, how she thinks, how she <em>feels</em>. I know you <em>think</em> you've left your life with the Blacks behind entirely, but your attempt to reject them is nearly as superficial as Aster's, and <em>far</em> more childish." She sniffed. "Decrying <em>them </em>as <em>evil</em> as you cruelly attempt to force a dark child to embrace the Light? There's a word for people like you, Bellatrix Dorea: <em>hypocrite</em>."</p>
<p>"I would <em>never</em>—" Dorea began, but Zee cut her off.</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, you have. Sanctimonious self-righteousness is not the measure of a good person, <em>Doe</em>, nor is unrelenting guilt. Simply because—"</p>
<p>McKinnon cut her off in turn, clearing his throat lightly. "Mirabella, please stop. You've lost your objectivity, and you never did explain why you're here. Not, I think, to publically reduce the daughter of one of my oldest friends to tears."</p>
<p>Zee blinked. So did Aster. She'd be willing to bet it wasn't often anyone used that almost parental, disapproving tone on Zee. "My apologies, Professor. You are correct, of course. I couldn't have predicted that Lady Potter would be here today; therefore, fortuitous though it is, I couldn't have come here with the goal of enlightening her to the emotional trauma she's put Asteria through these past several years already in mind."</p>
<p>"Mirabella."</p>
<p>She sighed. "I'm here because Aster asked me to sit in on her session. My impression was that she wants someone who actually understands her in the room to prevent any...miscommunications." Nice way to put <em>so she doesn't stab you</em>. "I presume you have no problem with such an arrangement?"</p>
<p>"That's ridiculous!" Dorea blustered, as McKinnon considered. "Asteria! The whole <em>point</em> of talking to a mind-healer is that there can <em>be</em> no miscommunication!"</p>
<p>"Are you <em>blind</em>, Dorea? Aster is clearly uncomfortable with the very <em>idea</em> of speaking to a mind-healer. If she wants someone she trusts in the room with her to ensure that she doesn't do or say something which might be interpreted poorly, that's her business."</p>
<p>"That's— But, surely there has to be some more <em>appropriate—</em>"</p>
<p>"If you're on the cusp of volunteering yourself, I suggest you <em>not</em>," Zee said sharply. "If Aster wanted you there, she would have invited you. Suggesting that you are a more <em>appropriate</em> candidate than myself implies that you do not trust Aster's judgment, and thus stands as proof of the point that you are, in fact, <em>less</em> appropriate. Never mind that someone who actively attempts to degrade and demoralise a child she <em>professes</em> to care about—"</p>
<p>"Mirabella."</p>
<p>Zee pouted at the Healer, taking a more childish tone to match his parental disapproval. "I can't help it! I don't like her, and she makes it too easy!"</p>
<p>"Nevertheless, my policy on reducing people to tears in my presence remains unchanged since you were thirteen."</p>
<p>Wait, what? Maybe it made sense, Aster guessed, that the Chief Mind-Healer would know Zee, if she'd been seeing mind-healers here when she was a kid, but she guessed she hadn't expected her to know McKinnon <em>personally</em>. She hadn't mentioned that "the Professor" had been <em>her </em>mind-healer when Aster asked her to sit in.</p>
<p>Zee smirked at him, raising an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Oh! I understood that to be a policy against making your subordinates cry for simply attempting to do their jobs. Though I still think they ought to have been able to resist my manipulations, no matter <em>how</em> green they were. <em>My mistake</em>."</p>
<p>"Newly qualified healers have a tendency toward overconfidence," McKinnon admitted, with a slightly rueful smile which Aster fancied implied he'd made all the baby healers try to take Zee's case just to cure them of that tendency. Amusement twitched at her lips in spite of herself. "Especially young mind-healers."</p>
<p>"Well, that sounds like a failure of the educational establishment to me," she needled him, smirking slightly. "Still, I'm sure most of them got over it. And the emotional trauma of being suddenly disillusioned about their actual degree of competence by a smart-mouthed teenager. Eventually." She shrugged, making it <em>very</em> clear she didn't care if they had or not. "So, am I staying, or am I taking Aster home?"</p>
<p>McKinnon gave her an evaluating sort of look, though Aster couldn't guess <em>what </em>he was evaluating. "Yes, you may stay. Dorea, please excuse us." He stepped out of the way, gesturing for them to go into his office.</p>
<p>Aster let herself be shuffled off without offering Dorea a proper farewell, mostly because, well...Zee wasn't <em>wrong</em>, about her kind of making Aster feel bad about being a bad person. Not <em>really</em> shite, hating herself bad, but she would definitely hesitate to say certain things in front of Dorea, if only because she'd be <em>incredibly tedious</em> about them. If she wanted to invite her to tea or something, Aster would probably <em>go</em>, and they'd have a really bloody awkward conversation about the fact that Aster just wasn't cut out for being Light, but at the moment she was kind of envying Evans's sharp break with her parents, and the fact that she never had to talk to them again.</p>
<p>"So," McKinnon said, settling into a chair — not the one behind his desk, but one of the little cluster of armchairs and settees arranged for "informal" conversation on the other side of the room — a thin file and notepad propped on one knee. He settled into place in her mind as well, establishing just enough contact to make it obvious he was <em>watching</em>, as always. She cringed, but concealed her discomfort almost instinctively, refusing to allow it anywhere near the obvious extension of his awareness, and he didn't seem to notice. "Was there some topic in particular that you wanted to discuss today which requires a witness?"</p>
<p>Aster hesitated, taking her time choosing a seat herself — normally she would pace, but she still wasn't entirely comfortable <em>walking</em>, what with the bite on her leg, yet another thing making this meeting <em>even more awful</em> — trying to decide whether to start with the topic of <em>I'm fine, I don't need to talk to you anymore</em> or <em>get out of my fucking head before I stab you</em>. (She wouldn't <em>actually</em> stab him, she hadn't brought a knife, she just <em>wanted</em> to. Hexing him was definitely on the table, though, and that would also be <em>bad</em>.) "The only thing I want to discuss is me <em>not</em> having to come back here again," she said firmly. If she could convince him of that, then the second point was a non-issue — and if she led with her irrational hatred of legilimency, it would probably make it look like she <em>did</em> need to keep coming here. "No offence, but I don't need to be here, it's a waste of time. Especially dancing around like you did all last week, trying to convince me I have fucking issues, as though that's not the most obvious thing in the fucking world."</p>
<p>He gave her a small, encouraging smile. "So, you believe you have 'issues', but that our meetings are a waste of time?"</p>
<p>Hadn't she <em>just said that</em>? "Yes? I know I'm fucked in the head, okay, that's fucking obvious. I don't need you to tell me that. But I'm pretty sure you can't actually <em>fix</em> me being insane — I'm pretty sure someone would've mentioned it if there were a cure for the Black Madness, you know — and all I actually want is for you to sign off on me being sane enough I'm not a danger to myself or others. So what do I need to do to get you to do that?"</p>
<p>"I'm sorry, Asteria, but there's hardly a list of specific things one can do to prove one is of sound mind." Asteria glared at him. "This is quite a shift from your attitude last week, you realise."</p>
<p>"Yeah, well, a lot has happened in the past week."</p>
<p>She'd met with him on Thursday, so he'd let her skip last Saturday, which meant she'd still been in her post- Revelation That James Potter Has No Honour funk, stiff and preoccupied by the welts from her lashing that she hadn't wanted Evans to heal, rather than by her new and altogether more painful werewolf bites. She hadn't yet spent the rest of that afternoon playing war games with Bella and remembering that it wasn't actually so bad, hanging out with the baby Death Eaters — that she kind of actually found a lot of them entertaining, and had a lot in common with them — and started thinking about <em>why</em> she'd started hating them (and herself) so much, and why she'd thought James Potter was worth following in the first place, let alone decided that she'd made a mistake, and that was fine, she'd been a stupid, rebellious eleven-year-old, but she was going to be more mature now, and not stick to a path she <em>obviously</em> wasn't suited for just because she didn't want to admit she'd made said mistake, and Potter never had been a good role model.</p>
<p>(Yes, Bella had told her that at Yule all the way back in first year, but sometimes Aster had to work things out for herself to actually <em>understand </em>them. She could be slow like that, sometimes.)</p>
<p>She hadn't yet watched Evans burn down her relationship with her parents, admitting that she was an evil, manipulative bitch, but still trying to be a good, thoughtful person while she did it, assuring them that they didn't need to worry about her and all, or talked to Remus and Annie, owning up to being a complete monster, and the fact that she...didn't actually feel bad about that, so much as she felt like she ought to feel bad that she <em>didn't</em> feel bad. And that was just habit, really. Five years trying to pass for acceptable with James and Marley and the rest of their class. She hadn't admitted to herself, yet, that she wasn't actually obligated to feel bad about <em>any</em> of that, if she didn't want to. Which, it <em>would</em> be kind of fucked up if she <em>did</em> want to. But she didn't.</p>
<p>She hadn't gone to deliver bad news to Morgen and been forcibly reminded that <em>other people</em> had problems that <em>weren't</em> mostly in their heads, and realised maybe Evans had had a point, out in that cave, about her actually being in a much better position with her old life in ashes, even if it hadn't much felt like it last time she was here.</p>
<p>"Such as?"</p>
<p>"Such as Bella told me you have a bug up your arse about getting me to admit that engineering a moment of catharsis—" The mind-healer threw a look at Zee as though he <em>knew</em> she'd been the one to come up with that phrase. She just shrugged, smirking. "—to get over the immediate shock of Potter betraying me was a bad thing — which it wasn't — because you think I hate myself, so I should stop doing that if I ever want to get out of these fucking meetings. And also that I need to learn to slow down and explain why I do things so I don't look even more insane than I actually am, like letting Bella adopt me back into the House or running off to deal with a werewolf loose in Hogsmeade, though I think that one should be obvious — there wasn't <em>time</em> to sit around dithering about it, there was a <em>werewolf</em> loose <em>in Hogsmeade</em>! And anyone else would've killed him, and that wouldn't have fixed <em>anything</em>."</p>
<p>McKinnon held up a finger in a silent request to speak. "We'll get to the werewolf issue later," he declared, making a note. Aster doubted they actually would. He had to have about <em>thirty</em> 'come back to this later' notes by now, every topic they discussed bringing up at least three other issues he thought they needed to discuss. "For now, let's go back a moment. You said Bella told you to stop hating yourself?"</p>
<p>"Yes. And now that I have, I would like to be excused from all further mind-healing sessions. I'm sure you're a fine bloke, if you wanted to talk about literature or magic theory, or pretty much <em>anything</em> else, that'd be fine, we could get coffee—" Zee cleared her throat, preventing Aster adding something like <em>maybe go back to your place</em>, because hitting on your mind-healer even as a joke just wasn't on. (McKinnon wasn't a bad-looking man for pushing eighty, but the <em>constantly lurking in her head</em> thing had put him firmly on the <em>never going to shag</em> list, in case he was wondering.) "—but I would literally prefer to make small talk with <em>Walburga</em> for an hour every Saturday than sit here and try to talk about my feelings while you lurk in my head like a fucking creep."</p>
<p>His moustache twitched as though he knew exactly where that sentence had been going before Zee redirected it, or maybe as though he'd actually caught that thought about him being un-shaggable, but that was fine, fuck if Aster cared. "This may be one of those instances where it's necessary to slow down and explain your reasoning, I think." When she just gave him a confused frown — she thought the implication that talking to Wally was terrible was pretty clear — he added, "You simply...decided to stop hating yourself?"</p>
<p>"...Yes?"</p>
<p>"How, exactly?"</p>
<p>"What do you mean <em>how?</em>" Aster asked, slightly tetchily, maybe, but that was a stupid fucking question. "I figured out why I thought I should hate myself, decided the whole underlying reason was stupid, and...stopped hating myself."</p>
<p>"Mmm, I see," McKinnon said, in a tone which suggested he certainly did <em>not</em> "see".</p>
<p>"I really only hated myself before because I thought I should, because you're <em>supposed</em> to hate evil and the Dark if you're a good person, and I was trying to be a good person despite actually being kind of terrible, by the standards of the Light. I was trying <em>really hard</em>. So I didn't feel bad about doing bad things, but I felt like I <em>should</em>, and I felt bad about <em>not</em> feeling bad — or again, like I <em>should</em> — so I felt bad about not being a good person, even if I didn't really feel bad about things like, I don't know, enjoying hanging out with Bella. Afterward, yeah, I can remember I'm supposed to hate her on principle, and I <em>don't</em>, and I hated myself for...not being the sort of person who's repulsed by her killing people when she really doesn't need to, or whatever."</p>
<p>She was pretty sure he still didn't get it. Sure enough, he flipped back a couple of pages in his notes. "Last time you were here, you said you deserved to suffer because you were a failure. Because you'd fucked up everything, betrayed everyone who mattered. Because you trusted James when you shouldn't have, and willfully deluded yourself into believing you meant something to him, when you clearly didn't," he read dispassionately. "That doesn't sound like the sort of academic, distant, principled hatred one can simply walk away from when one's principles change. Though it is also rather unusual to so thoroughly alter one's principles so quickly, we can come back to that later as well." He made another note, presumably to that effect.</p>
<p>Aster stiffened unconsciously, only aware of it because her shift in posture tugged at her stitches. "I was in a bad place last time I was here. Not the <em>lowest</em> I've ever been, but— I don't normally feel like that, okay? I don't— James betraying me, making it clear I didn't matter to him, that he had no honour and wasn't worthy of my respect, kind of...shattered me. But he's dead to me now, he doesn't matter. And Bella still loves me— Or, well, Bella doesn't <em>love</em> people, but I'm still her favourite, I'm still <em>her</em> Family, even if the adults — my parents and Arcturus, I mean—" <em>She</em> was actually an adult, now, when had <em>that</em> happened? "—don't care if I die in a fire. And I've accepted that I'm a child of the Dark, I'm <em>never</em> going to be a good person by the standards of the Light. I can <em>act</em> good, but I won't <em>be</em> good. Which is <em>fine</em>, I don't need to actually <em>be</em> good to not hurt people if I don't want to and that's the important thing."</p>
<p>Evans took a much more reasonable line on the whole <em>good person</em> thing than James, even though her parents, or her mum at least (Aster hadn't really talked to her dad nearly as long, that first time they'd visited), was a <em>lot</em> like the Potters, insofar as her definition of <em>good</em> and <em>evil</em> went. Evans didn't necessarily think she was a <em>good</em> person (<em>Prefect Evans</em> was a <em>good</em> person), but she considered herself 'decent enough' — meaning she generally acted as normal and Light as she could, and tried to be thoughtful enough to avoid hurting people unintentionally. (Which seemed like a much more achievable goal than <em>actually being good</em> — not <em>wanting</em> to do evil things, and not enjoying them when she did.) Probably came of being an evil, manipulative bitch, but since Aster was also kind of evil (albeit less manipulative), that still made her a better example to try to follow.</p>
<p>"Let's talk about your relationship with James a bit more."</p>
<p>Aster scowled at his calm note-making. "Let's <em>not</em>. There's nothing to talk about. He's dead to me."</p>
<p>McKinnon made <em>yet another</em> note, probably something to throw in her face <em>next</em> week, since she didn't seem to be getting anywhere with her plan to get out of these stupid meetings. "You keep saying that, that he's <em>dead to you</em>. What does that mean?"</p>
<p>...<em>That he's dead to me, obviously.</em> How the hell was she supposed to explain— "If you're not even going to look and see for yourself what I mean, what the fuck is the point of you being in my head, exactly?"</p>
<p>McKinnon once again ignored the not-so-subtle <em>get the fuck out</em> hint. "The question isn't whether <em>I</em> know what you mean, Asteria. It's whether <em>you</em> know what you mean."</p>
<p>"That's fucking moronic, of course I know what I mean!"</p>
<p>"It might still be too soon to ask Aster to examine her feelings surrounding the Potter boy in more detail, Professor," Zee suggested.</p>
<p>Aster glared at her. "No, it's fine. I said I'm over him and I meant it. I just don't understand the question."</p>
<p>Zee raised an eyebrow at her tone, which had, perhaps, been slightly defensive. "Articulate your feelings regarding James more precisely, dissecting exactly what the phrase <em>dead to me</em> means in terms of your emotional reaction to the thought of James, memories of him, seeing him in person and speaking to him, and so on."</p>
<p>Oh. Maybe she <em>wasn't</em> ready to be comfortable answering that question. But when had her comfort been a consideration, ever? "The James Potter I thought I knew, the one I <em>loved</em>, never existed," she explained, as coldly and dispassionately as she could. "I thought he was...honourable. That he cared for me, if not in the same way or to the same degree that I cared for him. That he respected me and held me in some esteem. Breaking that illusion was like killing the James I thought I knew, watching him murdered at the hand of the <em>real</em> James Potter." Not entirely unlike she imagined the Evanses were going to mourn the loss of their good, innocent, imaginary "Lily" version of Evans. "That James, the man I deluded myself into seeing in him...he was the centre of my life. He was <em>everything</em>. And he's gone, he never existed.</p>
<p>"And I can't even hold it against the real James — it's not <em>his</em> fault I saw him for what I wanted him to be rather than what he was. It's almost ironic, really, he's been doing the same thing with Evans for years. The <em>real</em> James...is a stupid, entitled, thoughtless, self-centred <em>child</em>. And he's <em>afraid</em> of me. <em>He</em> means nothing to me. I don't care about <em>him</em>. The James I cared about is dead. The boy walking around looking like him and sounding like a petulant twat every time he opens his mouth reminds me of the fact that I was a deluded fucking <em>idiot</em>, believing him to be anything else, and that hurts, but if Evans actually kills him, or Bella drags him off and leaves him in the Shadows..." She shrugged. "I already mourned <em>my</em> James. I suppose I'd probably come to his funeral, for Dorea's sake, but I'd be hard-pressed to actually cry."</p>
<p>McKinnon's eyes narrowed. "I'm sure there's a part of you that actually believes that, I can feel that much, but we both know you're keeping me at arm's length. You aren't going to be able to come to terms with the loss of 'your James' if you refuse to be honest with yourself, Asteria."</p>
<p>Aster clenched her jaw to keep herself from letting out an inarticulate scream of frustration. That presumptive, paternalistic, patronising <em>jackass!</em> This wasn't the first time he'd implied — or outright <em>said</em> — that she was lying to him when she <em>wasn't,</em> but it only became more infuriating every time, especially when he <em>dared</em> say she was <em>still</em> lying to herself about James, when she'd spent the <em>entire week</em> coming to terms with the fact that she <em>had been</em> lying to herself about him for <em>years</em> and deliberately disillusioning herself about him, when he'd just demonstrated beyond any shadow of a doubt that he was fucking <em>brain-dead</em>, was just— McKinnon wasn't listening to her, he couldn't be, if he thought she was being even the <em>least</em> bit charitable to James, and she <em>wasn't</em> hiding some lingering secret soft spot for him, either! Hadn't she just said he was practically a fucking <em>stranger</em> to her, now?!</p>
<p>She couldn't do it. Couldn't keep her mouth shut, keep her temper — she could barely see straight she was so furious. "I <em>am</em> being honest with myself, old man! I'm even being honest with <em>you</em> — I want you to agree that I'm fine, and I don't have to come back here ever again! I'm not lying — I <em>would</em> if I had any idea what I'm <em>supposed</em> to say, but I have no idea what normal is, so I <em>can't</em> — all I can do is cooperate, because I <em>know</em> noncompliance is a red mark, at least, so I'm <em>trying</em>, and I'm <em>not</em>— <em>Stop trying to tell me I don't feel exactly what I'm telling you I feel!</em> I'm literally doing <em>everything</em> I can to play along with this stupid mind-healing dragonshite — you have <em>no idea</em> how hard it is to just <em>sit here</em> — you <em>know</em> I hate legilimency, I haven't kept <em>that</em> from you, but the fact that you're still sitting there calmly when you <em>aren't</em> far enough into my head to incapacitate me with mind magic and your wand's on your desk says you have <em>no idea</em> how close I am to losing my composure entirely!"</p>
<p>The fact that she was currently <em>screaming at him</em> should really, <em>really</em> tell him that he needed to back the fuck off — she'd honestly <em>already</em> started losing her composure, if he didn't <em>stop pushing her</em> this situation was going to go downhill <em>fast</em>, and she wasn't going to be able to control it — wasn't going to be able to control <em>herself</em>.</p>
<p>His face took on a more nervous cast, but he didn't withdraw contact, probably hoping that he'd have enough of a hint if Aster <em>did</em> lash out at him, he'd be able to do something. <em>What,</em> she wasn't sure, since he didn't even try to press a calming compulsion on her as he said, "Asteria, I really think you need to take a deep breath, here..."</p>
<p>"No! Fuck you!" She hadn't meant to say that, but she wasn't sorry that she had. "I will <em>not</em> calm down, not when you're <em>still</em> in. my. fucking. <em>head!</em>" She seized onto the probe he'd extended into her mind, drawing him further in with teeth and claws, bombarding him with fear and pain and memories of fighting Moony and Cissy, biting and stabbing and tearing and burning, of the sickening soul-pain of the Dark rewriting her identity and the night she'd fled into the forest attempting to escape the reality that James wasn't the man she needed him to be and the anxiety of just <em>sitting here</em>, deliberately <em>not defending herself</em>. He tried to pull back <em>then</em>, but it was too late, he'd kept her on edge for <em>weeks</em>, now, he could <em>damn</em> well suffer with her until he <em>made</em> her let him go, she—</p>
<p>Zee smacked her.</p>
<p><em>Really fucking hard</em>, with the stones on her rings turned in to draw blood, Aster realised, as the hot lines they'd left began to distinguish themselves from the general warm tingling of her entire left cheek. Her eyes snapped open, concentration broken. McKinnon fled back to his own mind, a hand to his forehead like she'd given him a migraine — <em>good!</em></p>
<p>But then Zee wrenched her chin around to look at her instead of him, her other hand wrapping tightly around Aster's right wrist, keeping her wand pointed firmly at the ground. "Asteria, can you hear me?"</p>
<p>"Yes," she snapped, jerking her chin free. Zee caught it again immediately, not letting her look at the mind-healer, which was <em>not helping</em>, knowing there was a threat over there <em>somewhere,</em> and not being able to track it was <em>not</em> doing <em>anything</em> good for her current state of mind.</p>
<p>Zee smiled. Calm. Reassuring. <em>Lying.</em> "Breathe, Aster. You're safe."</p>
<p>She wasn't, she'd firmed up the boundaries between herself and the rest of the world, she'd know if he tried to get in again — she'd at least <em>know</em>, but—</p>
<p>"I'm here, Aster. I'm not going to let John hurt you. I'm not going to let you hurt John." A chill ran down her spine, bringing her back to herself a bit as she realised what she'd just done, snapping and attacking her bloody healer. "You're safe. Breathe."</p>
<p>"Is he okay?" she asked, now trying to look around for a very different reason. "I didn't—"</p>
<p>Zee didn't let go of her face. "He's fine, love."</p>
<p>"Did I hex him?" <em>Please tell me I didn't hex him</em>...</p>
<p>She smiled again. "No. You just surprised him a bit. He's fine. You're fine. Breathe." Aster did. She'd say Zee didn't need to remind her to breathe, but her heart was racing, pounding so hard she could practically feel it in the air around her, and there didn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room, so maybe she did. "Close your eyes, love. Center yourself. Breathe. And out. Relax. That's it, good girl." She pulled her closer, squishing herself into the armchair with Aster instead of crouching in front of her as she let the tension sink out of herself and pulled her magic back in — letting Aster lean on her, her head tucked under Zee's chin. "I'm here. You're safe. Breathe with me."</p>
<p>She did. After a minute or two, her heartbeat slowed to match Zee's, too, though anxiety still clawed at her throat. "I fucked up," she whispered into the older witch's neck.</p>
<p>"No, John fucked up," Zee said firmly. "He's been a mind-healer longer than I've been alive. He <em>should</em> know better than to provoke you like that. It's one thing to get to know <em>me</em> by watching me terrorise his junior staff. It's a very different thing to push you until you snap to assess your self-control."</p>
<p>"Mirabella is correct," McKinnon said, sounding tired and somewhat strained himself.</p>
<p>Aster flinched. She'd almost forgotten he was there. By which she meant she had entirely forgotten, focusing on her focusing exercise and Zee being all warm and lavender-smelling and <em>safe</em> and breathing with her, and their hearts beating together, and—</p>
<p>"Okay, darling, I think you're calm enough now, time to come back up."</p>
<p>"Huh?" Aster said intelligently.</p>
<p>Zee sketched something on her forehead, maybe some kind of symbol for clarity or alertness. A wave of cool energy flooded through her, like diving into a tepidarium, or maybe breaking the surface, coming out of one. She sat up, taking a deep, gasping breath (<em>ow</em>) and blinking several times in rapid succession as the trance she seemed to have fallen into faded away. "What the hell was <em>that?</em>"</p>
<p>"I believe Professor McKinnon owes you an explanation," she said. The pointed comment was <em>obviously</em> not directed at Aster, nor did it answer her question.</p>
<p>"An explanation of hypnosis?" Well, that <em>did</em> answer Aster's question, but probably wasn't what Zee had meant. Though <em>now</em> she was wondering exactly how the hell Zee had managed to fascinate her, given that she didn't have a pendulum or something to get her to focus on, lose herself in the rhythm.</p>
<p>"And perhaps an <em>apology</em>," she added, even more pointedly.</p>
<p>McKinnon sighed. "Yes, I'm sorry, Asteria. I should have recognised the fragility of your state of mind — if not when you asked Mirabella to join us today, then when you warned me that I should have my wand to hand."</p>
<p>A jolt of panic stabbed her in the heart as Aster realised she didn't have her <em>own</em> wand in her hand anymore. Where had— <em>Oh.</em> Zee had slipped it back into its holster. She took another deep breath, making a conscious effort to relax.</p>
<p>"And I should have withdrawn accordingly, rather than force you to react. That was...a miscalculation, on my part."</p>
<p>"Wait, you mean...you knew that I was going to— Why would you—?" <em>Why would you do that to me? I thought you were a fucking </em>healer<em>...</em> He'd known all along how much that constant, silent lurking was freaking her out, and he'd kept doing it <em>anyway?</em> What the <em>fuck?!</em></p>
<p>"Because you, like Mirabella and a handful of my other patients and students over the years, are far too mistrustful of mind magic to allow anyone to access your mind freely. This necessitates a different, more personalised approach to assessing your limits and coping mechanisms for dealing with various stresses," McKinnon explained, so calmly and reasonably that it actually did sound kind of reasonable. Sure, it was a sneaky, underhanded sort of reasonable, but.</p>
<p>Zee apparently disagreed, though not, Aster noted, enough that she'd interrupted before the test was over. (It <em>was</em> over, she was pretty sure. Maybe.) "By which he means an approach which is no longer considered appropriate by the <em>vast</em> majority of mind-healers, given their inability to distinguish between useful diagnostic and therapeutic applications of 'stress' and psychological torture. Also," she added, giving Aster a few seconds to consider this revelation, "I resent the implication that I don't trust you to legilimise me, Professor. I'd never dream of trying to stop you."</p>
<p>That actually made McKinnon look rather uncomfortable — presumably he hadn't <em>liked</em> legilimising Zee. Which was kind of surprising, Aster doubted that there was anything in Zee's mind that was <em>that</em> bad. Certainly not worse than anything in <em>her</em> mind, and the healer had implied that he <em>would</em> legilimise <em>her </em>if she'd let him. Which, he probably could have done. She probably wouldn't have been able to stop herself from fighting back, but she almost certainly wouldn't have been able to stop <em>him</em>. "Mistrustful of mind magic, or with whom establishing mental contact presents a serious risk to both healer and patient," he corrected himself.</p>
<p>Which was...interesting, but not really why they were here, or what Aster was focused on at the moment. "So you've been torturing me as some sort of sick <em>test</em> to see what I'd do when I couldn't take it anymore?"</p>
<p>"...Yes," the mind-healer admitted, sounding oddly cautious about it.</p>
<p>Aster blinked at him for a long moment, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn't, she prompted him. "Well, did I <em>pass?</em>"</p>
<p>Zee snorted, whether at the question or the stunned look on McKinnon's face, Aster wasn't sure. Apparently that wasn't what she was expected to say, though she had no idea what he <em>had</em> been expecting. It wasn't as though she hadn't spent most of her life learning painful lessons and being pushed well beyond any reasonable expectations to reach what she now knew were ridiculously exacting standards, and challenged to test her abilities at every turn. Honestly, the fact that he'd gone and pulled something like that on her kind of went a long way toward explaining Bella's obvious approval of him — <em>he's good at what he does,</em> indeed!</p>
<p>"Yes, Asteria. You passed," Zee said, all fond exasperation, ruffling her hair like <em>of </em>course <em>you passed, you adorable, silly little thing, you.</em></p>
<p><em>That</em> McKinnon elaborated on, throwing a disapproving glare at Zee. "It's not that sort of test, Asteria. The question wasn't whether you would react, or how long it would take, but <em>how</em> you would react. There is no right or wrong response. Your reaction simply gives me some indication of how you think and feel and respond to difficult situations."</p>
<p>Zee apparently disagreed with that, too. "She continued to attend these sessions despite her obvious discomfort, tolerating a degree of anxiety well beyond anything she's likely to experience in everyday life, even while you did your best to find and trigger her psychological weak spots; she warned you multiple times that you were treading on thin ice; she even went out of her way to find someone to help keep herself under control when she recognised that she was entering into a situation which was likely to be more difficult than usual. That speaks to a degree of self-awareness, caution, and self-control which I would argue are more than sufficient to cope with any situation she's likely to encounter at school. She <em>passes</em>," she said firmly, glaring at McKinnon. "Which in this case means that if she wants to end her course of treatment today, you <em>will</em> write a recommendation endorsing her as stable and not a danger to herself or others, assuming she is not provoked well beyond the bounds of socially acceptable interaction."</p>
<p>...Right. Somehow, Aster was starting to suspect that that sort of shite wasn't just <em>not considered appropriate</em>. It almost sounded like Zee was implying that there was an <em>or else</em> there, related to the situation as a whole. And McKinnon's response didn't imply that there <em>wasn't</em>.</p>
<p>He sighed, nodded. "You held out far longer than I expected, Asteria. And your eventual reaction, while unexpected, was not inappropriate. Mirabella's assessment is...accurate. If you wish today to be our last meeting, I'll write your letter. Though I do think you could still benefit from continuing our discussions with...shall we say a less intrusive approach?"</p>
<p>"Does that mean <em>not</em> using legilimency to lurk on the edges of my mind like a fucking creep?" she asked suspiciously. Because that was really the part of this whole mind-healing thing she absolutely couldn't stand. If he stayed out of her head (or if he was more subtle about it, or even if he'd just talk to her instead of being the legilimens equivalent of a creepy bloke sitting in the corner staring at her) she wouldn't hate talking about all the shite that was going on with herself and Evans and Bella and life in general. Remus. She could definitely use someone to talk to about Remy and Starlight and all that.</p>
<p>"Yes, that is what that means," McKinnon confirmed, moustache twitching. "I am sorry, truly. If I had realised how stubbornly you would resist such a subtle pressure, I would have used some other method to stress you to the breaking point."</p>
<p><em>Zee's</em> lips twitched at <em>that</em>. "Ironically, I suspect that <em>lurking</em> was a far more effective approach than any other. A more direct threat could almost certainly have been more directly opposed — a state of affairs Asteria would have been far more comfortable with." McKinnon raised an eyebrow at that. "Why do you think she accepted that your sadistic so-called diagnostic process was a test without question? The House of Black takes a fundamentally antagonistic approach to childrearing. Living in a constant state of external conflict is positively <em>comfortable</em> for them."</p>
<p>"Yeah, well." Aster just shrugged. She didn't know what she thought ought to be said, here. Zee wasn't <em>wrong</em>. And she got that McKinnon had wanted to know what she was likely to do if someone <em>else</em> were to push all of her buttons and try to set her off, but... "You could've just <em>asked</em>, you know. I don't <em>like</em> legilimency, but if you'd given me a choice between letting you hunt through my mind to figure out how likely I am to snap and try to kill Potter or myself or whatever, and four weeks of this lurking, trying to drive me mad shite, I would've let you legilimise me."</p>
<p>McKinnon, weirdly, seemed <em>surprised</em> about that. "Would you have? I had the distinct impression that you would have fought tooth and nail to keep me out."</p>
<p>"Well, <em>yeah</em>, but only with mind magic. I wouldn't have hexed you or anything. And you're a master legilimens, right? I'm <em>pretty sure</em> you would've gotten everything you wanted to know even if I were to try to resist."</p>
<p>The mind-healer frowned at her. "It goes against every ethical principle for a mind-healer to force himself on a patient who is actively resisting mental intrusion."</p>
<p><em>And it doesn't go against every ethical principle to intentionally try to drive me mad?</em> "Yeah, well, knowing you're there and having to hold myself back from resisting is <em>much</em> worse than just resisting and losing. Or if you just didn't let me know you were doing it at all. I know that's <em>also</em> kind of ethically bad, or like, rude or something, but I know you're a legilimens, I don't really expect to have any privacy in my own mind if I'm in the same room as you. That doesn't bother me as much as you being <em>obvious</em> about being there, and expecting me not to try to do anything about it."</p>
<p>"Oh? Dorea mentioned that one of the reasons you were reluctant to speak to a mind-healer was that you didn't want anyone to know certain things about you."</p>
<p>Aster scowled. Again with the throwing shite back in her face... "That was <em>over a month ago!</em> That's practically <em>forever!</em> I didn't know that you couldn't tell anyone what you got out of my head when I said that. And I don't care whether the Light thinks I'm completely fucked in the head anymore, remember? If I come back, you have to at least <em>try</em> to keep up! Even if you <em>could</em> tell Dorea I get off on some awfully fucked up shite, who gives a fuck? I'm not trying to be good anymore, so I don't have to feel guilty and embarrassed about getting sex and violence all mixed up, or pretend that Evans claiming that I'm <em>hers</em> and declaring that she has absolute authority over who I so much as <em>talk </em>to isn't <em>really </em>fucking hot."</p>
<p>"When did <em>this</em> happen?" Zee interrupted. "Last I heard, you hadn't formalised your relationship."</p>
<p>"We still haven't—" Aster hadn't found what felt like a good moment yet. Yes, she might think it was perfectly reasonable to declare undying loyalty to someone in the library during their afternoon break in classes, but Evans was a ritualist. Aster suspected that she would appreciate it if there was a little more ceremony to the thing. "—but <em>last week</em>. And I'm injured and can't do anything about it until <em>next </em>week, and I'm <em>dying</em>, Zee, you have no idea! I am <em>so</em> fucking bad at <em>waiting</em>..."</p>
<p>Zee laughed at her. "Oh, you poor thing!"</p>
<p>"I mean it! I'm going crazy here, and Evans keeps teasing me, but she won't <em>do</em> anything because I said it'd be fine, I could be careful, but she knows me well enough to know I <em>wouldn't</em> be, because I <em>really</em> don't care that I would probably seriously injure myself, I <em>need</em> her, and— It's just <em>maddening</em>, is what it is! Absolutely maddening! Moony had better be grateful he's alive, because I have never been this frustrated in my entire bloody life!"</p>
<p>"Moony?" McKinnon asked, changing the subject, which was really just as well.</p>
<p>"Yes, Moony. He's a werewolf and one of my best mates. I let Evans heal me after— Well, okay, last time I was here, I was still feeling kind of shite about myself, right, and didn't want her to heal the wounds from that whole moment of catharsis thing, but then I spent a few hours training with Bella, and adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and I was feeling more normal after, and decided, yes, I was being silly and let Evans heal me. I'm <em>currently </em>injured because, I think I mentioned earlier, <em>someone</em> let Moony loose in Hogsmeade last weekend, and in the course of saving his arse from Regulation and Control and incidentally getting between him and his prey and vexing him just a tad, he bit me. <em>Twice</em>. Stupid wolf... It's not really a big deal," she said quickly, heading off McKinnon's obviously concerned response. Somewhat surprisingly, he actually resisted saying anything. "I'm pretty sure I'm immune. It's annoying as hell, though, and not just because I can't seduce Evans if I can't <em>move</em>. I hate chirurgery almost as much as I hate legilimency and sutures <em>itch</em>. I think Bella might've put in extra just for the excuse to stab me a few dozen more times. New moon <em>cannot</em> come soon enough!"</p>
<p>Zee gave her an exasperated snort. "She probably put in extra because it's harder to tear them out when there are more of them, and you're about as likely to sit around and convalesce properly as she is."</p>
<p>That was an excellent point, actually. Aster ignored it entirely, as McKinnon asked, "Why were you dealing with a rogue werewolf?" at the same time.</p>
<p>"Did you miss the part where he's one of my best mates? What was I supposed to do, just let him run around Hogsmeade turning people until Regulation and Control showed up and murdered him?"</p>
<p>"No, of course not. I'm not criticising the decision, especially if you have reason to— How could you possibly be <em>immune</em> to being turned yourself?" he demanded, apparently unable to stop himself.</p>
<p>Aster gave him a tired, one-shouldered shrug, really not in the mood to re-hash that conversation. "Fuck if I know. It's probably a Black thing. Like I said, not a big deal, move on."</p>
<p>"Seconded," Zee agreed, when McKinnon opened his mouth like he definitely <em>wasn't</em> going to just move on. "She really isn't concerned, and trying to convince her that she ought to be will only annoy her."</p>
<p>The mind-healer hesitated, but apparently decided it wasn't worth trying to argue with <em>both</em> of them over this. "...Right." He shook his head. "When I asked why you were dealing with the problem, I was attempting to ascertain how the situation came about."</p>
<p><em>Ergh</em>, so much for not repeating shite. Though, she realised, she could explain what had happened and why she was completely done with James at the same time. So she started with, "Oh, well, in that case, there was a <em>situation</em> in the first place because James Potter is the world's biggest, most entitled fucking <em>idiot</em>," and ended with Evans shoving the Royal Toerag into the lake, because that was fucking hilarious.</p>
<p>"I'm not actually concerned about talking to him again now, though," she assured her audience of perpetually concerned-looking mind-healer and giggling Zee. "See the aforementioned fact that he's dead to me, and I belong to Evans now, anyway."</p>
<p>"You...<em>belong</em> to Evans," McKinnon repeated, making a note. "Would you care to elaborate on that statement?"</p>
<p>"...Not really?" Honestly, she wasn't really sure how she <em>would</em>. "I mean, I just... She claimed me, see? I mean, she said as much, but it's not just <em>that</em>, words, it's...taking care of me. Standing up for me. Earning my loyalty, I guess, kind of. But also, just... I <em>belong</em> to her. Like swearing fealty <em>belong</em>. Like <em>Family</em> belong. She's my sister, now, you know. Practically, anyway. So I'm supposed to take care of her, too, but it's more than that. I'm <em>hers</em>. I just— I don't know how else to say it. Zee?" She gave the older witch, still wedged into the chair with her, her best begging puppy eyes. "Explain?"</p>
<p>"It really isn't fair of you to look <em>so</em> much like Bella, you know."</p>
<p>The idea of Bella giving Zee puppy-dog eyes was kind of hilarious, but Aster managed to beat down her amusement. "<em>Please?</em>"</p>
<p>She raised an eyebrow at McKinnon in silent question.</p>
<p>He sighed. "Oh, go on, then. I welcome your perspective on the matter."</p>
<p>He probably really did. Aster was well aware that he didn't get the House of Black. And also that it was probably a lot easier to understand her if someone understood the House, where she was coming from. She knew that, she'd tried to explain it... She just didn't think she'd managed to explain <em>very well.</em> She hadn't really been trying to be evasive in their earlier meetings, but it was hard to concentrate and focus when she was distracted by his fucking legilimency stress-test (and her own self-loathing), she was <em>sure </em>she hadn't done a very good job explaining shite like how belonging and fealty and love and respect and power and attraction were all kind of tied up together — not just for Aster, but for all of them — and why it mattered <em>so much</em> that James had rejected her. Zee had been observing the House almost as long as Aster had been <em>alive</em>, she probably understood them better than any other outsider (except de Mort, but legilimency was cheating).</p>
<p>"Oh, well, it's quite simple, really. Aster's in love." Aster felt her face grow warm. She...wouldn't say that...maybe. "Perhaps not as most people would recognise it, but in a very characteristically <em>House of Black</em> way. Asphodel has usurped James Potter's place as the lady to Asteria's knight, in both the dark and the light sense — the lord to whom she has given her loyalty and her honour, whom she <em>follows</em>, trusting their judgment above her own, and also the object of absolute, nigh-worshipful devotion."</p>
<p>Aster snorted, trying not to laugh because <em>ow</em>. Just imagining James's reaction if someone were to refer to him as Asteria's (Sirius's) lady to his face — he'd be <em>very</em> offended, even if it was kind of accurate in the way she'd put him on a pedestal and done everything she possibly could to win his love without actually admitting that was what she was doing. Or really <em>realising</em> that that was what she had been doing for <em>years</em>. In the archetypes of the Light, with their weird romanticised courtly, chivalric dragonshite, James was <em>definitely</em> more a lady than a lord. (Though she had treated him as her lord as well.) Zee raised an eyebrow at her. "No, you're right. It's just, Lady James Potter. I'm fine. Go on."</p>
<p>McKinnon interrupted before she could. "Is this what you meant when you said you loved your image of James Potter, Asteria?"</p>
<p>"...Yes? Pretty much. Maybe... Well, I wouldn't have <em>said</em> that I was treating James like my lady, and there was kind of more...camaraderie between us than <em>lady</em> implies, I think? At least to the Light." It wouldn't be all that strange for the Dark, the idea of one's leader being the first among equals — still followed and obeyed, especially in battle, but without the strict distance implied by the idea of lordship for the Light. (And obviously the Light didn't use lord and lady interchangeably for <em>leader</em>.) "But I had clearly built up an ideal of him which had almost nothing to do with reality, so yeah. Basically."</p>
<p>"Forgive me for saying as much, but I feel the need to reiterate, as I did last time we met, that that is not the sort of relationship one overcomes easily," McKinnon said, all hesitant and leading and <em>entirely incomprehensible</em>.</p>
<p>Aster let her head tip to one side in obvious confusion. She hadn't <em>overcome him easily</em>. That really should be evident given her state last time she'd been here. "Yes, and?"</p>
<p>"It's only been two weeks since Samhain," Zee reminded her.</p>
<p>"Still not getting it."</p>
<p>"Oh, for fuck's sake," Zee muttered, before shifting to the arm of the chair so Aster could see her completely condescending expression and explaining, almost sarcastically slowly, "The Professor thinks that two weeks — <em>one</em> week, really — is not enough time to have come to terms with the destruction of such an important relationship. Certainly not enough time to be emotionally prepared to embark on a <em>new</em> relationship of similar depth and scale."</p>
<p>"I...don't understand. <em>Emotionally prepared?</em> What does that even <em>mean?</em> Also, if a week isn't long enough, how long are you supposed to wait? And why didn't anyone ever tell me there's an official relationship mourning period?" Really, that seemed like the sort of thing Walburga would've mentioned at some point. At least if she was supposed to be visibly signalling that she was in mourning for said relationship. "I'm not supposed to be wearing black ribbons in my hair or something, am I?"</p>
<p>McKinnon's moustache twitched, as though she wasn't <em>entirely serious</em> about that. Granted, she'd never noticed anyone at Hogwarts doing something specific to announce that they'd just gotten dumped — Marlene certainly hadn't, when she and Sirius had broken up — but she could be kind of obtuse about these things, sometimes. "No, Asteria, there is no <em>official relationship mourning period</em>. It's simply a matter of giving oneself time to re-adjust and acquaint oneself <em>with </em>oneself, independent of the influence of that relationship."</p>
<p>Well, that was the stupidest bloody thing Aster had heard since the <em>last</em> time McKinnon had said the stupidest bloody thing she'd ever heard. "But a week isn't enough time, so how long is an acceptable period to 'reacquaint oneself with oneself'? For normal people, I mean. Because I'm pretty sure I'm entirely familiar with myself, thanks very much."</p>
<p>Zee chuckled. "<em>Emotionally prepared</em> means that you're entering into a similar relationship with someone new on their own merits, rather than simply to replace the connection you lost, as a reaction to that loss. And the answer you're looking for is about a third of the time-span of the relationship, up to perhaps half a year."</p>
<p>Aster gaped at her. <em>Seriously?</em> "Circe's tits! That's ridiculous!" She couldn't even <em>imagine</em> spending <em>six months</em> trying to — what? realise that it's fucking over with someone, they don't matter to you anymore?</p>
<p>"Mirabella," the mind-healer said, all disapproving. "Everyone processes emotional turmoil at different rates, providing a definite timeline for healing is invariably counterproductive."</p>
<p>"But one week certainly isn't enough?" Zee shot back, raising an eyebrow at the inherent hypocrisy, there. "Asphodel has laid claim to Asteria's loyalty — with witnesses, on multiple occasions — and has demonstrated that she is worthy of it in ways the Potter boy was not, undermining their relationship and winning Aster's respect and loyalty away from him. Seeing her make such a decisive stand on Aster's behalf as she's just described, humiliating Potter so thoroughly and exposing him for the weak-willed coward that he is, I'm not the <em>least</em> bit surprised to hear that Aster is entirely 'over him', at least in terms of having lost all respect for him, and consequently re-evaluating the principles she held because she did."</p>
<p>"How am I supposed to respect someone who's <em>obviously afraid of me</em>, Zee?"</p>
<p>"I didn't say you should — I would <em>never</em> expect anyone raised in the House of Black to hold any legitimate respect for someone they perceive as weak." Implying that there were people who <em>did</em> respect people who were scared of them? Maybe she and Zee had a different definition of <em>respect</em>... "On which note, Asteria embracing Asphodel as her lady is also, in some ways, a return to the House, in much the same way her initial investment in James Potter was an overt <em>rejection</em> of the Blacks and their values. Based on her inarticulate attempt to explain what it means to <em>belong</em> a moment ago, I would say this is also a significant influence on her feelings about Asphodel."</p>
<p>"Oh, come on, Zee! Just because she's going to be adopted— I <em>already</em> decided that I'd let Bella put me back on the family tree, whether Evans is a Black too doesn't really matter."</p>
<p>Zee raised an eyebrow at her. "<em>You</em> were the one who brought up that she's your sister, and that matters. Did you want to take over? This <em>is</em> still your session, you know."</p>
<p>"I—" Okay, fine, maybe it did matter. And she absolutely did <em>not</em> want to talk about herself if Zee doing it and Aster just kind of nodding along was an option. "No, never mind, I'll shut up."</p>
<p>"If you have something to add, Asteria, you should by all means speak up," McKinnon assured her.</p>
<p>"I will. But it's really better if Zee does the explaining the House part. I tried to, remember, a couple of weeks ago? And it's just— It's complicated, okay?" And also approximately the simplest thing ever, which made it infuriatingly difficult and confusing to talk about.</p>
<p>"It's not, really. But I'll get there, if you like. Aster and Asphodel's respective relationships with Bellatrix and to a lesser degree Thom place them in a poorly defined space of kinship. Thom, for all she would deny it, occupies a rather avuncular position in Asteria's mind, making his daughter at the very least somewhat of a cousin. That's not nearly as important, however, as the fact that Bella has declared them to be sisters, which has stronger connotations of mutual support in the House of Black than outside of it, connotations which echo those of a properly reciprocal vassalage relationship, but with more flexibility in the sense of hierarchy — neither of them is expected to take the lead in <em>every</em> situation. It also has connotations of <em>closeness</em> which differ somewhat from those outside the House. Siblings share <em>everything</em>. They're natural allies against the adults of the House and the world at large, confidants and comrades in arms."</p>
<p>"Or rivals," Aster volunteered, thinking of Cissy as much as the past five years with Evans.</p>
<p>"Yes, in some circumstances. But don't pretend you wouldn't back Narcissa if she were seriously under attack by anyone other than <em>you</em>."</p>
<p>"<em>Maybe</em>." If she were up in front of the Wizengamot for something, Aster might actually testify against her just to make her squirm, but yes, she would probably help Bella break her out of Azkaban if Cissy couldn't talk her way out of the charges. And yes, if she were actually being attacked, like...if the Prewett twins had cornered her and were giving her shite about Bella, or something (which had actually happened when Aster was a second-year) and it actually escalated to throwing hexes (which it hadn't, Fabian and Gideon could be dicks, but Molly, their older sister, would murder them if it got back to her that her seventeen-year-old brothers were picking on third-year girls...even if it was just Cissy), Aster probably would have helped her mix it up with them. And she couldn't really deny that they'd closed ranks pretty fucking quickly, talking to Dumbledore the other day. "Okay, yes, probably."</p>
<p>"Yes, that's what I thought." Zee gave her a crooked smirk before turning back to McKinnon. "The closest relationship any of the Blacks have tends to be with their siblings, or cousins raised in the same household like Asteria and Narcissa. I would personally say that the dynamic between Asteria and Asphodel is more sororal than feudal, if only because Asphodel is so relatively inexperienced in navigating our world. I expect their relationship will drift in a more feudal direction over time."</p>
<p>The mind-healer nodded slowly, once again making notes. (When <em>wasn't</em> he making notes?) "I was under the impression that your relationship with Miss Evans is more romantic in tone than sororal," he said to Aster, clearly making an effort to not-ask whether her previously-stated desire to fuck Evans regardless of whether she was physically fit to do so wasn't weirdly incestuous as tactfully as possible.</p>
<p>"I was under the impression that <em>literally everyone</em> knows the House of Black is one big incest joke," she quipped. "Seriously, though, I'm not really sure what the difference is?"</p>
<p>That, apparently, wasn't a question McKinnon was prepared to answer. He opened his mouth as though he were about to, then closed it, looking rather flummoxed. Zee laughed at him. "As a rule, the Blacks have trouble distinguishing between familial and romantic affection, devotion to one's family or lord and romantic devotion, and platonic and sexual attraction."</p>
<p>McKinnon shot her a <em>look</em>, presumably asking whether she agreed with that assessment. Aster took a moment to consider and decided that, no, she really didn't understand what those differences were supposed to be. She nodded, giving him a one-shouldered shrug. There was also the fact that most people just couldn't keep up when the Blacks in question were a little mad, but that wasn't really relevant.</p>
<p>Zee smirked at his poorly concealed discomfort. "It's not necessarily <em>assumed</em> that siblings or pseudo-siblings have a sexual relationship, especially if there's a significant age difference between them, but it's not implied that they <em>shouldn't</em>, either. Bella would call me her sister in the same way Asteria and Asphodel are sisters." And Zee and Bella had been screwing since they were about fourteen — sleeping together much longer, Zee had complained about Bella being completely oblivious to her advances for years on more than one occasion. Bella maintained that Zee should've just come out and asked if Bella would fuck her if she wanted to that badly. It wasn't as though she hadn't been familiar with the concept when they were firsties. "Aster being a debauched little nymphomaniac isn't really relevant here, though."</p>
<p>"Oh, like you're one to talk! When was the last time <em>you</em> were celibate for a whole week?" Aster had actually been celibate for longer than this when she was moping over James's <em>first</em> rejection of her, after the Gryffindor House Back to School Party. But she'd been too <em>down</em> to function or care, didn't count.</p>
<p>"Er...Nineteen Sixty...Three? Maybe Sixty-Four." She gave a light shrug. "I'm not judging you, just saying, the fact that you want Asphodel isn't really significant to your relationship, given that you'd probably shag Horace Slughorn if he'd have you."</p>
<p>"Hey! I have <em>some</em> standards!" Not very high ones, but slimy, skeezy creeps who went around making political connections by trying to flatter fucking <em>third-years</em> definitely didn't make the cut. And what was <em>if he'd have you</em> supposed to mean? If she wanted to pull Horace Slughorn, she was <em>absolutely certain</em> he'd have her! "Just because <em>you</em>—"</p>
<p>McKinnon cleared his throat <em>very</em> pointedly, cutting off what would have been a dig about Zee probably trying to seduce <em>all</em> of her professors at one point or another. "You were saying, Mirabella?"</p>
<p>"Oh, well. The Blacks are, as a rule, rather bad at independence. Solitude. Not just Bella and Aster, but all of them. Rather ironic, perhaps, given the antisocial tendencies of the Family as a whole, but they're raised in a very insular, isolated environment as part of the larger organism that is the House. Almost literally, in some ways — their Family Magic might actually be sentient."</p>
<p>"It is," Aster volunteered. "It doesn't understand that I attuned myself to the light intentionally, so every time I go over to Ancient House it gets all clingy because it thinks I've been attacked, or something." According to Bella. Aster had expected the Family Magic to be upset with her for undermining it — the <em>elves</em> were upset — but it mostly just seemed to be extra focused on her. In a weirdly <em>external</em> way. She could still feel her connection to it, but with her magic so light now, it felt almost discordant to lean into it. Not <em>painfully</em> so, but enough she couldn't properly communicate with it anymore, and she had to be within the range of its place-bound wards for it to hover all over-protectively.</p>
<p>McKinnon raised an eyebrow at that. Not surprising — most Family Magics, even those of reasonably old Houses like his own, weren't really what one would consider <em>conscious</em>. "That's...rather unusual," he said after a moment.</p>
<p>"Pretty much everything about the House is <em>rather unusual</em>, apparently." As had been pointed out to Aster at what seemed like <em>every available opportunity</em> for the past <em>five years</em>.</p>
<p>Zee shrugged. "Not <em>everything</em>, but most things, yes. And more so for your generation, taking Bella as your behavioural exemplar."</p>
<p>"Why should that be different for us? Bella is <em>literally</em> everything a Black is supposed to be. If she didn't exist, we'd still want to be just like her, because we'd want to be like a character in one of the old family legends, and that's basically what Bella is."</p>
<p>"Yes, and that's of note because, as you may have noticed, no one else so uncompromisingly embodies the ideals set out in such highly romanticised fae tales these days, or even attempts to do so. Normal people, when faced with the realities of the world as it is, grow up and <em>compromise</em>. They admit that the world is more complicated than it seems in children's stories and that the models they've been given for what it means to be a good leader, an honourable person, are ideals to strive for, but no one actually expects anyone to <em>meet</em> them. They realise that it's impossible to live in the world as they believe it ought to be and conform to <em>actual</em> social norms with various degrees of resentment. They don't go on portraying ideals which are wildly unsuited to the world as it is and tell anyone who has a problem with that to go fuck themselves. Certainly not <em>successfully</em>. Would you actually think it possible to live like one of your legendary, semi-historical family heroes in this day and age if you <em>didn't</em> have Bella as an example to prove that it can be done? at your age?"</p>
<p>"I— <em>Maybe</em>..." Probably not. She pouted at Zee's annoyingly condescending tone as much as the fact that she was right.</p>
<p>"Bella was also the one who insisted that you and Narcissa, and your more distant cousins to a lesser extent, should both be taught everything about being the lord <em>and</em> lady of a House. She argued that it was so you would be able to train your own children properly. It had already been decided that neither of you would be marrying another Black — your theoretical wife couldn't be expected to raise a proper daughter of the House, nor could Narcissa's theoretical husband be trusted to raise a son Bella wouldn't be ashamed to claim as a nephew."</p>
<p>"Well, it's a good reason," Aster insisted. Also, gender was a bloody confusing concept, she really didn't see the point.</p>
<p>Zee knew that. She smirked, ruffling Aster's hair again. "The actual reason, though, is that she doesn't understand or care to conform to gender norms herself. She has very little inclination to fulfill any external social obligations which might be expected of her, well beyond the general piss-taking most people expect from your family. I think you're too young to remember the hell she raised when Arcturus decided she'd be getting married, but the fact that she <em>isn't</em> should give you some indication. She would live in a state of perpetual conflict if she could, and is only loosely aware of the concept of fear, which leads her to act as though potential consequences simply don't apply to her to an even greater extent than the average entitled noble in our cohort, or even Danny, Ellie, and Nash," the Black cousins nearest to Zee and Bella in age, "taking risks which seem absolutely insane even when she's <em>not</em> mad. Does any of this sound familiar?"</p>
<p>Aster's pout deepened. "I know what fear is. And I don't want to live in constant conflict, either," she insisted, knowing as she did that it wasn't quite true. She didn't want to live in conflict with <em>everyone</em>, as in <em>all alone</em>, but having an enemy to pit herself against gave her...direction? Kind of? It felt more...stable, having someone or something to specifically oppose, rather than throwing herself headlong into whatever seemed the most interesting at any given moment to no real purpose.</p>
<p>"I've seen you fight, Asteria. I've known you since you were in the nursery, and I've never seen you happier or more comfortable than you are on the training field." Yeah, there was that, too. "Are you <em>really</em> going to try to tell me that you wouldn't spend all your time in battle if you could?" Well, <em>no</em>. She felt her face grow warm under Zee's too-certain stare. "And if you think there's a single other person at Hogwarts who would have run off to attempt to capture a werewolf on the full moon without hesitation, I'd like to know who."</p>
<p>"I didn't <em>run off without hesitation</em>, I had a plan!"</p>
<p>"A plan which involved you fighting a werewolf on foot to distract him until reinforcements arrived?" Okay, yes, it sounded stupid when she put it like <em>that</em>, but Aster was still certain it was the best choice she could have made with the resources she'd had on hand. And it had <em>worked</em>, no one was dead or arrested, so Zee could just piss off. "The House of Black has been breeding rebellious impulsivity, a propensity toward violence, and a general lack of empathy into the House for centuries," she informed McKinnon. "Brilliant warriors and battlefield tacticians they may be, but they also tend to be sadistic, self-destructive, and short-sighted when left to their own devices. In order to ensure the survival of the House in the face of their individual antisocial, uncooperative tendencies, they train their children from the cradle to <em>follow</em>, putting the needs of the House above their own and stifling any sense of personal ambition. They may aspire to be the absolute best at whatever they attempt to do, but I've <em>never</em> met <em>anyone</em> less suited to complete independence than Bella. Asteria's a close second."</p>
<p>"Hey!"</p>
<p>"Oh, hush, you know it's true. You don't know what you want to do with your life because you have no initiative of your own."</p>
<p>Aster <em>wanted</em> to object to that, had her mouth open and everything, but she was currently having difficulties thinking of anything she actually <em>did</em> want to do with her life that wasn't becoming an Auror just because she'd been planning on doing that for years now, and that had actually been James's idea in the first place, so she shut it again.</p>
<p>Zee chuckled, turning back to McKinnon, who was, as always, scribbling notes. One of these days, she was going to steal them, just to see what the <em>fuck</em> he was saying about her. "The process of teaching the children of the House to <em>follow</em>, of shaping them to become tools or weapons to be wielded by the House, is hard and cruel by any standard, especially on those like Aster who are more resistant to the dictates of authority. It is not uncommon, historically, for children to attempt to break with the House and their training, as Aster has done. But that doesn't mean their brainwashing doesn't <em>work</em>. Even children of the House who succeed in breaking away from it to some degree have no idea how to function <em>alone</em>. And they quickly realise that there is nowhere else in the modern world where they actually <em>belong</em>. They may be rather absurdly accomplished and ridiculously competent as a rule, they tend to excel in any environment they're put in, but the world at large is <em>soft</em> and other people far too fragile to ever fully relax around or play with."</p>
<p>That was almost <em>painfully</em> true.</p>
<p>Actually, not almost.</p>
<p>"Finding a cause or a person to follow gives them a sense of direction and purpose in the absence of the guiding structure provided by the House, without which they have a tendency to <em>drift</em>, but vanishingly few outsiders understand what it means to be a child of the Dark, and even fewer accept it. Those Blacks who marry out must either fully embrace their new House's guiding principles with all possible enthusiasm, like Dorea, or spend their lives holding themselves back and pretending to be less than they are, like Cedrella, or attempt to re-make their new House in the image of the Blacks, like Lucretia. Even those who attempt to make a place for themselves at the hardest edge of civilised society tend to find it unbearably restrictive — Cassiopeia left the Aurors because it was either that or be expelled for constantly violating their codes of conduct in apprehending and questioning suspects."</p>
<p>Really? Aster hadn't known that. "How do <em>you</em> know that?" she demanded.</p>
<p>Zee snorted. "Bella might think it's weird that I ask her things like <em>who's your favourite aunt? </em>— she certainly doesn't care who <em>my</em> favourite aunt is—" That wasn't entirely true, because Zee's favourite aunt was an infamous metamorph-legilimens thief and con-woman, and therefore <em>not boring</em>, but Aster took her point. "—but she doesn't mind telling me about herself if I ask. Or anyone or anything else I want to know about, for that matter. And it's possible I find your House slightly fascinating."</p>
<p>Yeah, that wasn't really a secret. "You're practically one of us at this point, you know. The Family Magic likes you and everything."</p>
<p>"Oh, hush, you. I know you're just trying to change the subject." She couldn't quite stop a silly little grin creeping onto her face, though. If Bella was going to go around adopting people now, she really should make Zee her sister in blood, or name her as Evans's godmother, or something. Make it official. She'd suggest it in her next letter, Aster decided. "The fact that Asphodel <em>understands</em> Asteria — which she doesn't <em>entirely</em>, but she's nearly as good at reading people as I am, and they've been nemeses for <em>years</em>, I'd wager she does understand Aster better than anyone who <em>hasn't</em> known her since she was a small child — and the fact that she <em>accepts</em> that Asteria is, as she's so fond of describing herself, <em>a crazy person</em>; that she doesn't expect Aster to be <em>careful</em> around her; that she isn't offended or shocked or scared away by Aster's intensity and ruthlessness and propensity for casual violence; that Asphodel actually <em>reciprocates</em> Aster's appreciation of those qualities — all of this makes it almost impossible for Asteria not to be drawn to her.</p>
<p>"And Asphodel, unlike James Potter, has made a point of learning about the dark half of our society. She not only understands Asteria, but she understands the cultural context in which she was raised, as much as anyone <em>not</em> raised in it truly can. She understands what it means to accept a vow of fealty and knows the duties and responsibilities a lord holds to their vassals. She's <em>honourable</em>, in the dark sense — not necessarily chivalrous, but dependable and trustworthy. She's exactly the sort of person Asteria feels she <em>needs</em> to give her a sense of belonging and direction. Aster belongs <em>with</em> her because she provides her a sense of kinship, without the complications of Aster's relationship with the House. She belongs <em>to</em> her because she sees Asphodel as the dominant personality in their relationship — perhaps not the better suited to lead in every situation, but the more grounded and <em>certain</em> of the two of them. A sort of lodestone or guiding star, giving Aster a reference point to orient herself around, help her find her place in the world."</p>
<p>"And what is that place, exactly?" McKinnon asked.</p>
<p>Zee smirked, but he was looking at Aster, and she was the one who answered, almost without thinking.</p>
<p>"One step behind Evans, and one to her right."</p>
<p>(<em>Obviously</em>.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Two more chapters in this cluster. And I'm seriously trying to get some work done on The Plan, so it may be a while before the next cluster again. Just a heads-up.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Usurping the House of Black</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aww, teenage Aster continues to be adorable.</p>
<p>I'm not sure I would have called you my Right Hand, though. Not because you weren't <em>obviously mine</em> or because you weren't clearly the more respectable and socially aware of the two of us, just mostly because I don't think I was really in any sort of a leadership position at the time. For you and Sev, sure, but. I was under the impression that a proper Dark Lady needs more followers than just her Right and Left Hands.</p>
<p>Honestly, I think I would have called you more of a scout or guide or something, at that point. Sev and I had kind of just been muddling along as best we could, and then you came along to help us actually find a path of some sort — not really leading us, but sort of...making sure we got where I wanted to go without stumbling headlong into the various traps and pitfalls we would have walked right into on our own. I mean, can you imagine how badly things might have gone if you <em>hadn't</em> become a girl, and Bella <em>hadn't</em> told the Baby Death Eaters you were allowed to be Light, and Reggie <em>hadn't</em> faltered and we'd kept to our original plan of pretending we were no longer friends?</p>
<p>Sev would probably have ended up a Death Eater — we didn't realise when we made that plan they'd been marking recruits before they left school — and I wouldn't have just left him in Britain <em>alone</em>. You and I would probably be in Dumbledore's little army, but you would still have hated me, because I'd still be pretending (poorly) to be Prefect Evans. I can see it now — I would've eventually realised that I wasn't going to be able to keep up the facade and probably would've bitten the bullet and married Potter just to gain some legitimacy for when the charade eventually collapsed under the pressures of war, you would've hated me <em>even more</em> for using him... Bella would've been happy, though, with you to bring some actual military knowledge to the Old Goat's side, and me around to counter their silly ritual plans.</p>
<p>Well, assuming Dumbledore swallowed his distaste for ritual enough to let me <em>actually do shite</em>. I guess I probably wouldn't have dared actually dedicate myself to my Lady, if I didn't know I had Thom and Bella to run to if things went <em>catastrophically pear-shaped</em> with the Light, but I can't imagine I would've been able to <em>not do ritual magic</em>. It's possible he would've refused to have me, I guess. In which case I probably would've been in a good position to try to defect to their side after all.</p>
<p>But that would've left <em>you</em> as the only dark-minded person on Dumbledore's side... Yeah, that probably wouldn't have gone well. Maybe they would've kicked you out, too?</p>
<p>Ah, well, enough of the what-ifs. The next bit is that meeting with Arcturus, right? I've read your version, and I have to say, it could be better. Obviously everything to do with the House of Black was already old hat for <em>you</em>, but the internal politics and especially the whole thing with the Family Magic <em>choosing</em> our Head of House? That's just <em>cool</em>. And you obviously don't think so, so I've done you the favour of writing my version of events for you. Keep it or don't, your choice.</p>
<p>(Seriously, though? Keep it, your version is boring.)</p>
<hr/>
<p>The House of Black was highly mythologised in Magical Britain, long before Lily Evans ever stepped foot into that world. In many ways, the stories told about the House were exactly what a muggle child might think to expect from a magical noble family, with the vague connotations of evil that go along with magic in that world — a family steeped in unholy dark power, their wealth and influence absurd even by the standards of the hidden magical world, their reputation honestly quite horrible. No one would have been surprised to learn that they really <em>might</em> have occasionally sacrificed a baby to a dark god when no one was looking, or have a cannibalistic Samhain feast, or expect every one of their children to kill someone in cold blood before starting school. But there was a certain effortless, dark grandeur about them, deeply ingrained standards of behaviour and presentation and expectation holding them well above the every-day magical riff-raff.</p>
<p>Holding them above even the other nobles, truth be told. Aster would probably blush to hear it, but she'd been very much the subject of gossip, those first few weeks of her first year at Hogwarts. Not only because she had been Sorted into Gryffindor, but because she was so <em>very obviously</em> a Black. If <em>Narcissa</em> had been a Gryffindor, or Regulus a Hufflepuff, there likely wouldn't have been <em>nearly</em> the same reaction from their fellow students. For all Narcissa was an <em>enormously</em> stuck-up, self-conscious perfectionist, portraying <em>British Noble</em> with a degree of exactitude which would have been amusing if it weren't <em>absolutely</em> clear that she was entirely serious about it, and Reggie <em>looked</em> like a Black — striking, dramatic and obviously wealthy, with that near-permanent sardonic <em>I'd be laughing at the world if I weren't too cool to do so</em> smirk — they were missing a certain...charisma, perhaps. An unconscious hint of <em>danger</em>, of wildness and potential, that made them, and every other noble in the school, seem like pretenders of a sort.</p>
<p>It was in the way he — Sirius, at the time — sized up a room when he entered, the way he <em>moved</em>, with the lazy awareness that no one in the immediate vicinity could <em>possibly</em> pose a threat to him, an animated quickness that sprang from boundless energy, and a rather sharper grace than the other noble children, who were trained to dance and glide but not to <em>fight</em>. The timing of his jokes was always perfect and the dismissal of the sidelong looks and whispers behind his back effortless. He never paid the slightest attention in lessons and yet always knew all of the answers, responding to professors' questions with an attitude suggesting that they were wasting everyone's time with their elementary exercises. A challenging grin met any implication that he simply didn't belong in Gryffindor, or anywhere else it damn well pleased him to be, daring anyone to say such a thing straight to his face, and the swagger which should have seemed affected on a short, slight eleven-year-old somehow simply added to the impression that his act of confident insouciance was not, in fact, an act at all.</p>
<p>The boys in his own class, of course, had a somewhat different perspective, sharing a dormitory as they did. Stories filtered to the rest of the House nearly by the week of some new and disturbing thing Black had said or done: suggesting that he knew how to cast the Unforgivable Curses, obviously surprised that the other eleven-year-olds in his dorm <em>didn't</em> know them; or mentioning in passing that he'd attended at least one dinner with an infamous werewolf terrorist; or claiming that the charms they were learning in Defence were completely useless in a real fight (demonstrating this fact by disarming Scott Walters and bloodying his lip with a quick jab in a matter of seconds...and then being <em>legitimately shocked</em> that Walters hadn't managed to dodge the punch — <em>and moreover</em>, had no idea how to <em>heal</em> a fat lip); telling ridiculously over-the-top stories about demonstration duels between his mad cousin and "that wanker she's shagging" — i.e., <em>the bloody Dark Lord</em> — and generally making everyone <em>deeply</em> uncomfortable with some regularity. (Though none of this was at <em>all</em> inconsistent with the young Gryffindors' expectations for a Black.)</p>
<p>The overall impression was somewhat like seeing a wolf-pup dropped in a litter of corgis — obviously out of place, but equally obviously <em>superior</em>. (And somewhat adorably unaware of those facts, so perhaps a wolf-pup that <em>believed itself to be </em>a corgi.)</p>
<p>Lily often thought, over those first few years at school, that it was a damn shame Sirius Black was <em>such an arse</em> to Sev, because he was easily the most interesting person in their year, and the one she would have been most interested in befriending if he weren't so determined to make an enemy of her. The House of Black mystique wore off a bit, seeing Sirius day in and day out — muddy and miserable after being knocked off his broom in Quidditch practice, or obviously hung-over in the wake of one of the big Gryffindor House parties, and after getting the better of him and his friends on a few notable occasions. (The hexing fake firsties entrapment plan is still and always will be bloody hilarious, especially the fact that he fell for it <em>multiple times</em>.)</p>
<p>But the humanising of Sirius Black really did nothing to damage the notoriety of the House as a whole. Even if he was a hell of a lot more approachable than he might've seemed those first weeks, the hints he dropped over the first five years of his tenure at Hogwarts only made it seem more likely that there was more truth than speculation in the rumours about the House and the madmen who supposedly made up the majority of its members.</p>
<p>Granted, by Nineteen Seventy-Six there were only perhaps a dozen or so Blacks <em>left</em> — Aster, Narcissa and Reggie, Bella, Walburga and Orion, Arcturus, and a handful of more distant cousins who had not yet married out of the House or been dragged into the War and gotten themselves killed thinking that they could pull off the same sort of mad exploits as Bella.</p>
<p>This, of course, only made the House a rather romantically tragic thing in popular perception — not piteous of course, they were far too dangerous to <em>pity</em>, but a proud, aristocratic family in obvious decline, laid low by its inherent flaws, unwilling to compromise its self-conception in order to get with the bloody times and save itself from what seemed like all but certain ruin in the next generation or two. Because the House of Black was never anything but dramatic.</p>
<p>If one were to ask Asteria, she would lay the blame at the feet of Arcturus, their patriarch, for his stubborn refusal to abdicate that position even in the face of his obvious and crippling depression (a direct result of the murder of his wife and children decades before). Narcissa or Regulus might have given a more nuanced perspective of the incipient collapse of their House, citing shifts in the mores of Magical Britain over the past centuries and the resulting decline in prestige of certain segments of society, decisions by the Wizengamot limiting their legitimate influence, and the loss of direct control of the wealth of human Magical Britain to the goblins in the Seventeenth Goblin War. Ultimately, they would likely consider it a consequence of the enactment of the Statute of Secrecy, that their once-grand House had come so near to falling.</p>
<p>Bellatrix, when Lily asked <em>her</em>, claimed that this showed a fundamental misunderstanding of the nature of the relationship between the House and the Dark, and between humans and the Powers in general.</p>
<p>"We exist to amuse the gods, Princess. Humans, conscious beings in general, really, but the Blacks specifically. That's what the Covenant <em>was</em> — serving the Dark means <em>entertaining</em> it. Stability, consolidating and establishing control and simply <em>holding</em> it, that's <em>boring</em>. Without conflict, without <em>struggle</em>, there's no <em>story</em>. We rise to the pinnacle of power and influence only to squander it and fall because it's not the achievement itself that matters, it's the struggle to attain it. The story is in the journey, not the destination."</p>
<p>Which was, Lily thought, a surprisingly <em>philosophical</em> way for Bella to see the world and her place in it, but Bella could be surprisingly philosophical sometimes, Lily had found, especially when discussing the House and what it meant to be a Black. Or the Dark. Those two topics were fundamentally entwined. Much of Bella's contribution to explaining what it would mean for Lily to be adopted had focused on the more magical and spiritual aspects of the process, in contrast to Aster's more material and legal concerns. Not that she was terribly concerned that Lily's dual dedication to the extremes of polarised magic would be a <em>problem</em> — the Covenant was no longer a consideration, and even if it were, Lily's dedication to Persephone would supercede her ambivalence toward the light end of the magical spectrum.</p>
<p>Kore herself wasn't entirely dark, but that was less important than the fact that the Dark, the Blacks' conceptualisation of it, was relatively young. Compared to Death Itself (or even just Persephone), the Dark (most often embodied in a five-hundred-year-old teenage Black called <em>Angel</em>, of all things) was little more than a petulant child. It was hardly likely to pick a fight with <em>Death</em> over Lily's soul. Of course, it also, in Bella's words, obviously fancied Thom, and therefore was every bit as excited as Bella to bring his daughter into the Family. (Yes, it <em>was </em>weird that there were gods out there who <em>fancied</em> her biological father...though probably not so weird as it would be if Lily weren't so deeply familiar with Magic herself.) It might show up at the adoption ceremony to introduce itself, but it almost certainly wouldn't <em>object</em>.</p>
<p><em>Most</em> of what she and Bella had discussed in terms of her adoption had been to do with the Family Magic. Bella had introduced her at Ancient House, that day she and Aster had spent the better part of the afternoon playing horribly violent training games.</p>
<p>Aster had been right, Lily had had <em>no idea</em> the sort of damage mages could do to each other in a real fight. Well, she had <em>intellectually</em>, but it was something entirely different to <em>see</em> it. That Aster kept demanding they keep going — obviously elated to be fighting someone she didn't need to pull her punches against — even after incurring and having to heal multiple complex fractures and several bone-deep cutting curses, had made Lily <em>very</em> uncomfortable. As had her uncontrollable giggling when Lily brought this up afterward, because <em>that was nothing, Evans. That was </em>child's play<em>,</em> <em>Bella wasn't even using anything really </em>malicious... Yes, she <em>had</em> been in a noticeably better mood afterward, enough she'd let Lily heal the (much abused and greatly worsened) damage to her back, but tired, relaxed, and downright <em>happy</em> — giggly and affectionate, it was bloody <em>weird</em> — wasn't actually much of an improvement over <em>suicidally depressed</em> in terms of unnerving Lily, especially given that it was a reaction to getting her arse comprehensively kicked for <em>literally hours</em>. Being crushed by Potter's rejection and betrayal at least <em>made sense</em>...</p>
<p>Lily would <em>much</em> rather have gone back inside and continued to acquaint herself with the Black Family Magic, but she couldn't drag herself away from watching — knowing that Aster was out doing stupid shite and getting hurt, but not knowing what or how badly, would have been even worse than watching.</p>
<p>So she'd had to content herself with the short introduction ritual Bella had made, dragging her to the ritual room at the heart of the building and sacrificing a few drops of blood to the keystone of the wards. Not just <em>at</em> it, but <em>to</em> it — the blood had been absorbed by the stone as though by a sponge, leaving no trace save for an uncomfortable, oppressive feeling of <em>scrutiny</em> as the heavy power that had surrounded her from the moment she stepped foot onto the property with Bella sank into her, sifting through her memories and... It sort of felt like it was weighing her, somehow, making <em>some</em> kind of judgment, though she couldn't have said how or what, exactly. Whatever it was, the Family Magic had obviously decided it approved of her. The oppressiveness vanished after a moment or two and the magic retreated, leaving a sense of acceptance in its wake rather than the heavy suspicion it had held <em>before</em> she was introduced.</p>
<p>And then Bella had let her sit and commune with it for a few minutes, getting a feel for what <em>it</em> was as it had, in her words, gotten a taste of Lily. The whole process was...<em>very</em> strange. The impression Lily had gotten of the sentient construct (was it a construct? it didn't seem...<em>constructed</em>, precisely) was one of simple intelligence, power, and barely-restrained violence — like a big cat of some sort, perhaps, but one that had just been assured that she posed no threat to it, and would ignore her unless she poked it in the eye or tried to set it on fire or something. Which was fine, Lily hadn't objected when Bella decided that she ought to teach her how to apparate while Aster was off talking to her mind-healer like a responsible person who cared about her own mental health, but she definitely would've preferred to continue trying to coax it into communicating with her — she was certain it <em>could</em> communicate, at least to some extent — rather than watching Aster repeatedly get the shite beaten out of herself. Apparently enjoying every second of it, because Lily's roommate was <em>insane</em>.</p>
<p>Noble Houses' estates apparently tended only to allow trans-dimensional travel in certain areas, which was neat, and accordingly had certain rooms set aside for the purpose. Most of them were decorated relatively distinctively to make it easy to visualise them, which was even cooler. (Little things like that still occasionally reminded Lily that she <em>basically</em> lived in a fairy tale now, and that it was somehow <em>actually real life</em>.)</p>
<p>When they arrived in the little courtyard which was apparently the apparation room of the Keep — an ancient tower which the Blacks had acquired at some point in their long and checkered history, now the primary residence of its Head of House — Aster was already waiting for them, sitting on a little decorative bench and glaring into the middle distance. Lily hadn't actually managed to figure out apparation in the hour or so Bella had spent teaching her last week, and couldn't have apparated directly to any of the Black properties anyway, since she'd never been there before, but that was fine. Bella was perfectly willing to lead her to the Keep through Shadows, an altogether less miserable means of transportation than side-along apparation, albeit somewhat slower. (Lily couldn't actually cross into the Shadow plane on her own yet either, but she thought she was closer to managing that than she was apparation.)</p>
<p>"Yeah, but, you know, <em>proximally</em>, it's definitely Arcturus's fault," Aster noted, still frowning at nothing.</p>
<p>Obviously she'd caught the last bit of the explanation as they slipped back into the mundane plane. It was, Lily had decided, very <em>strange</em>, listening to someone talk in the shadow plane. Not <em>bad</em> strange, just...strange. She was fairly certain she wasn't actually <em>hearing</em> anything when they were <em>in</em> the Shadows, though Bella was obviously actually speaking, since her explanation continued unbroken for Aster to hear when they crossed <em>back</em>.</p>
<p>"Yes, well, I'm not going to argue with <em>that</em>. And the Family Magic isn't going to leave you alone just because you keep pouting over its fussing."</p>
<p>Oh, was <em>that</em> what she was doing?</p>
<p>Aster sighed. "I <em>know</em> that. I just don't know how to make it <em>stop</em>. Go hover over Evans!" she snapped, making a shooing motion at the empty air. "She's not even a Black! Clearly needs to be watched more closely than <em>me</em>!"</p>
<p>The Family Magic didn't seem to think so. It <em>had</em> sort of tingled at her when they crossed back to this plane, like crossing any other major ward line, but the sense of <em>I'm watching you</em> that it had initially held toward her didn't return any more than it had when she'd gone to find Aster and Remus at the so-called Cottage in Hogsmeade. (<em>So-called</em> because it was nearly twice as large as Lily's parents' house.) Narcissa had been annoyed that Lily had dragged her out of bed to let her in, especially when they realised that Lily had already been keyed into the wards, but in her defence, she hadn't known that she was welcome to just wander into any Black property she wanted to now. She'd quite reasonably thought she was just being added to the wards <em>at Ancient House</em>. But no. Apparently the Family Magic had decided she was allowed to visit any property she liked without a physical member of the Family to watch her, which was weird and cool and <em>really</em> made her wish she'd spent more time trying to talk to it.</p>
<p>Bella giggled. "She's already been accepted as an exception — I added her when she was at Ancient House. And it's just worried about you. Would you rather I explain that your magic is light now because you purposely tried to hurt it?"</p>
<p>Aster turned her pout on Bella. "<em>No</em>, I'd rather you explain that I'm <em>fine</em>, I'm not under attack, it doesn't need to hover like an overprotective daimon!"</p>
<p>"Yes, well, if you don't open yourself up to it and let it see for itself that you're <em>fine</em>, it's not going to believe me."</p>
<p>The younger Black groaned. "Never mind! I'll talk to it when we do the adoption thing."</p>
<p>"Speaking of which...?" Lily inserted. They were actually here to talk to Arcturus about that very subject, and while she wasn't sure how long it had actually taken to get here, they hadn't had <em>that</em> much time to spare before their appointed meeting with the Black patriarch.</p>
<p>"Mmm, yes, let's go get this over with."</p>
<p>Aster sighed again, rising with only the faintest hesitation, all of her weight on the leg that <em>didn't</em> have a serious bite wound in its calf. Lily was impressed. If she didn't <em>know</em> that Aster was wounded, didn't know to look for little discrepancies from her usual posture and habits, she wouldn't have noticed. Which was impressive because she'd turned an ankle a couple of summers ago, and it had been all she could do to drag herself from point A to point B, she wouldn't have stood a chance of pretending she <em>wasn't</em> hurt. Aster <em>did</em> limp, occasionally, usually when she was distracted and not paying attention to moving smoothly, but the fact that she could so easily <em>stop</em> limping was slightly mind-boggling. Seemed dead useful, though, given that most people wouldn't take the revelation that Aster had been bitten by a werewolf last weekend nearly as well as Lily. Even <em>Narcissa</em> had doubted her certainty that <em>I'm not going to change, okay, it's not a big deal, bloody hell...</em></p>
<p>Yes, it had been a bit shocking when Narcissa had mentioned it, Lily had had a moment of visceral moment of <em>oh, fuck, Aster...</em> (and another on actually seeing the wounds, which were frankly <em>awful</em>), but she'd taken Aster at her word when she'd said she'd been bitten before, so obviously it wasn't a big deal, which was more than most people could say.</p>
<p>In any case, Aster had decided it was probably for the best to <em>not</em> tell her Head of House she'd been bitten — or at least not draw attention to it, if it turned out he'd <em>already</em> been told by Bella or Dorea — so she was making a point of hiding the fact that she was injured.</p>
<p>"<em>Why</em> did we have to come, again?" she asked. Bella never had explained that, just sent a letter telling them that they should meet her this afternoon at the Three Broomsticks, that they were going to talk to 'Old Archie' about 'this whole adoption lark'.</p>
<p>"So he can tell my adorable would-be daughters to their faces that he doesn't want me to adopt you?" Bella suggested, leading the way into the tower fortress.</p>
<p>"Er..."</p>
<p>Aster snorted, followed immediately by, "<em>Ow</em>. Bella, don't make me laugh!"</p>
<p>"He hasn't even <em>met</em> Asphodel, and I assume he wants to tell you off for being a stupid teenager and actually living up to the reputation of the House before letting me re-inherit you."</p>
<p>"Living up to the reputation of the House?" Lily repeated.</p>
<p>Aster gave an exasperated little huff. "Being a selfish, short-sighted idiot and giving zero fucks about the consequences of my actions. Believe me, I've already been thoroughly informed that the <em>only</em> thing I managed to do by breaking the Covenant was make it really fucking clear that I'm as much a child of the Dark as anyone." She pouted. "Pretty sure Pater doesn't care that the Dark still thinks I'm fucking precious, though."</p>
<p>Bella rolled her eyes. "Oh, he's definitely still annoyed. You <em>broke the Covenant!</em> He can't just sit around on his arse and expect the gods to ensure the survival of the House anymore. How dare you make him have to actually <em>do work</em> as our Head of House!"</p>
<p>She was still speaking as she flicked her fingers at a door, which opened with a silent, wandless charm. The tired-looking old man revealed behind it glowered at her.</p>
<p>It was kind of hard to guess the ages of magical people, Lily had found. Especially since people who were more powerful and surrounded by more magic tended to age more slowly than even the average mage. Aster, for all she had always <em>acted</em> a few years older than she actually was (especially when it came to snogging and/or shagging anyone who would have her since their third bloody year), would look young next to the fifteen-year-olds in Cokeworth, and if she didn't know better Lily would have guessed Bella was younger than Petunia, despite being about six years <em>older</em>. Thom was about <em>fifty</em>, which was slightly mind-boggling — if he'd been a muggle she would've guessed maybe...thirty-five? (Still probably too old for Bella if she were in her early twenties, but not <em>old enough to be her father</em> too old.)</p>
<p>Anyway, Arcturus looked about as old as Granddad Evans, so about seventy or seventy-five, if he were a muggle...but that didn't really mean much of anything. He could be in his eighties, or he could be a hundred and twenty, and she doubted she'd be able to tell the difference. His hair was a solid, steely grey, and his sharp-chinned face was going a bit jowly and sunken, making his cheekbones more prominent than his grand-nieces' (she imagined he'd looked rather a lot like Reggie in his youth), but his deeply-set dark eyes were still sharp under their bushy brows — tired, but not <em>wandering</em> like so many seventy- and eighty-year-old muggles Lily had met. He was seated behind a heavy desk of black-stained oak, its surface covered with what Lily suspected was dragonhide. It made him look smaller than he probably was.</p>
<p>Of course, she wouldn't have <em>expected</em> him to be a <em>large</em> man — their personalities might make them seem larger than life, but all the Blacks Lily had ever met were actually kind of tiny, physically. Sirius had barely been her height (five-five) and she might've actually had a couple of pounds on him. (Narcissa was actually an inch or two taller than Lily, but she was kind of a bastard, so she didn't count.) But Arcturus wasn't projecting the kind of energy that made his younger family members seem to overwhelm any room or conversation they entered, or the air of power and authority Bellatrix so easily summoned when facing Dumbledore and Dorea Potter last week.</p>
<p>When he opened his mouth, he <em>sounded</em> old and tired, too. "I am aware of your opinion of me, Bellatrix. I assure you, you haven't the foggiest idea how much work I actually do in the service of our Family. Please, sit." He gestured at a little group of armchairs situated for conversation on the opposite side of the room, rising to join them.</p>
<p>Lily followed Aster's lead in doing so, though Bella meandered over to a little side-bar to pour drinks for the lot of them. A bit early, Lily thought, for whisky — it was only four. Aster seemed glad for something to do with her hands, but Lily set hers aside after taking a small sip, just to be polite. There was no side-table, but the broad, plush arm of the chair was conveniently wide enough to support a glass or an ashtray, or a small diary like the one Arcturus brought with him from the desk.</p>
<p>"...Asteria. You look...well."</p>
<p>Aster's eyes narrowed, though whether at the hint of disapproval in the pronouncement of her name, or because she couldn't tell whether the old man legitimately hadn't noticed she was injured, Lily wasn't sure. After a moment, she nodded. "Uncle."</p>
<p>"And you must be the <em>Asphodel de Mort</em> Bellatrix is so...enthusiastic about welcoming to the Family," he noted, turning to Lily. As he caught her eye, she felt a hint of pressure behind them, a sense that the room was closing in around her, somehow — the tell-tale signs of a legilimens testing the boundaries she'd imposed between them.</p>
<p>This wasn't entirely surprising, Aster had mentioned that her Head of House (<em>their</em> Head of House) was a natural legilimens, like Sev and Thom. She hadn't thought to ask, though, whether she ought to let him in. What the protocol was, meeting a strange legilimens for the first time — was it rude, keeping a legilimens <em>out</em>? She shouldn't think so, generally speaking, but she <em>was</em> kind of petitioning to join this man's House, it might not be entirely inappropriate for him to want to make sure she wasn't trying to take advantage of Bella's generosity or some such thing. But on the other hand, if she let him in, he might think her incapable of protecting the House's secrets, or weak-minded in general, or form some other undesirable impression based on her thought-patterns and memories. Her immediate impression of <em>him</em>, along with the things she'd heard from Aster and Bella, was that he wasn't quite as easy-going as Aster and definitely not as mad as Bella — he might not take it well that she was dedicated to her Lady, or that her personality was a bit <em>dark</em>, even compared to, say, Aster and Reggie.</p>
<p>Thom probably wouldn't care if she tried to keep him out. She also probably wouldn't be able to if she tried. He was smooth enough she hadn't <em>noticed</em> him trying to establish contact until he drew attention to the fact that he'd already done so by 'talking' to her, commenting on her vaguely ambivalent disapproval of the actions that had led to her existence with an exceedingly casual, entirely unapologetic <em>It was nothing </em>personal<em>. And you needn't pretend you actually </em>care — <em>no one here expects you to, and putting on a show we all know is false would be </em>exceedingly <em>tedious, don't you agree?</em> Sev, on the other hand, would probably be deeply suspicious if she suddenly decided that she didn't want him in her mind and pushed him out. But he wouldn't dream of intentionally legilimising a stranger to get their measure. He kind of hated his natural inclination toward being an invasive twat. But Lily had a suspicion that both Thom and Sev might be somewhat poor examples of normal mind-mage behaviour, so...</p>
<p>Yeah, all that was pretty much meaningless, probably. (Damn it.)</p>
<p>And it was kind of too late to ask now. (<em>Double</em> damn it!) Unless...</p>
<p>"It's Evans, Lord Black. Lily Evans," she said, correcting him as politely as possible. Though perhaps she shouldn't have. She had, after all, cut ties with her parents fairly decisively last weekend. Force of habit.</p>
<p>The old man's eyes narrowed. "Yes, of course, Miss...<em>Evans</em>. What a very...<em>muggle</em> name."</p>
<p>"I hear there are a lot of muggles called <em>Black</em>, too, Uncle," Aster said, in the absence of a response from Lily, who was quite frankly too taken aback to come up with one. It had been <em>years</em> since anyone had taken such an obvious immediate dislike to her for simply <em>being muggleborn</em>. Of course, Arcturus had probably already been inclined not to like her, and she knew she was insulated at Hogwarts due to all the biggest pureblood supremacist arseholes knowing that Lily didn't <em>act</em> like their stereotypical conception of a muggleborn (basically Charity Burbage, to a <em>T</em>) and, more importantly, that she had just as much respect for Magic as any of them. (More than most of them, honestly.) Yes, Mulciber and Avery were still complete dicks to her, but more because she'd made a habit of standing up for the other muggleborns and weirdos they liked to harass than because they considered <em>her</em> a mudblood.</p>
<p>Still, it was hardly important. As soon as he was distracted by Aster, she asked, «Bella, should I let him into my mind?» She was pretty sure Lord Black didn't speak Parsel, even if he <em>did</em> manage to catch her low hiss over Aster's resigned explanation of the fact that she wasn't concerned about having been bitten by a werewolf, damn it! (She seemed annoyed that it had only taken about ten seconds for him to have changed the subject to that particular topic.)</p>
<p>Bella giggled. «Not necessary.»</p>
<p>It took a moment for Lily to make out the meaning behind the odd accent Thom said was the absence of Parsel magic in her speech. Apparently, what one understood in the snake tongue was heavily mediated by magic — snakes couldn't actually talk, after all — and Bella was just...making the sounds? It was <em>really weird</em> listening to her speak it, actually. She barely noticed that Thom wasn't speaking English. Bella, she actually had to think about what she was saying. But not <em>too</em> hard, or she couldn't understand <em>anything</em>. The whole <em>speaking a language you never learned</em> thing was weird like that.</p>
<p>Like, she was pretty sure Bella's name in Parsel wasn't <em>actually</em> "Bella", she had no idea what the word Thom used to refer to her in a name-like way actually <em>was</em>. It didn't have the same connotation of sharing a household as the word which meant mother/sister. It felt kind of <em>quick </em>and <em>venomous</em>, like it might actually be an adjective used to refer to a certain sort of snake, like they called <em>her</em> Princess of Serpents — i.e. Baby Basilisk. If she knew more about snakes in English, she might be able to figure it out, but.</p>
<p>"Pater, did you actually invite us here to harass Asteria about being a werewolf?"</p>
<p>"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bella! I'm not a werewolf!"</p>
<p>Bella giggled. "Yes, yes, I know."</p>
<p>"And <em>how</em>, pray tell, could either of you <em>possibly</em> know that?" Arcturus demanded. He seemed annoyed, but Lily fancied there might actually be some genuine concern for Asteria behind the obvious irritation. "You've both admitted that she was bitten!"</p>
<p>"You can't see the Curse?"</p>
<p>Arcturus gave Bella an entirely baffled blink. "What? No I— Be serious, Bellatrix!"</p>
<p>Bella seemed equally confused. Aster had mentioned that this happened, occasionally, Bella expecting other people to have the same awareness of Magic as herself or Thom, and seeming legitimately surprised when they just...<em>didn't</em>. She shot Lily a vaguely amused <em>I told you this happens</em> sort of look over the glass she'd been holding between herself and her great-uncle as though the alcohol could ward off his interrogation.</p>
<p>"I'm not having you on — she was bitten, but she's not going to Turn. The Curse obviously hasn't managed to integrate itself into her soul, it's kind of just unravelling now."</p>
<p>Arcturus did not seem any less baffled at that explanation, but Aster apparently hadn't known that, either. "Wait— <em>What?!</em>"</p>
<p>Bella sighed. "Well, normally the Curse is transmitted through the ritual act of the Bite. A kernel takes root at the animus-anima boundary and so-called filaments proliferate on the animus side within a matter of minutes, drawing on the victim's physical being for energy as it tries to integrate itself into their soul. The soul is the locus of the re-writing commonly referred to as the Turn, modifying your fundamental identity to support itself long-term and integrating a series of compulsions to reproduce it. If your soul were hospitable to it, you'd probably already feel it yourself, the metamorphic process. Supposedly it feels a bit like getting malaria, on a <em>much</em> quicker timeline. It generally completes before the new moon immediately following the Bite. If the curse <em>doesn't</em> manage to integrate itself, it eventually loses coherency and dissipates — like a seed might germinate, only to wither and die if denied sunlight."</p>
<p>She shrugged, then apparently realised that all three of them were staring at her with various expressions of disbelief, in Lily's case because that was <em>so cool</em>. Self-replicating curses were horribly, <em>horribly</em> dangerous, Lily had barely <em>heard</em> of them, let alone anything about how they actually <em>worked</em> — anything on how to create them was considered Anathema for obvious reasons. Now that Bella pointed it out, it made sense that the Werewolf Curse was one of them, that would explain why it was never discussed in textbook examples or case studies, but—</p>
<p>"Oh, for fuck's sake, Uncle, stop staring at me as though I've completely lost the plot! This is common knowledge, there are at least half a dozen researchers in Dai Llewellyn who could tell you more than <em>I</em> could."</p>
<p>"That there are six people in Britain who know more about this subject than you isn't <em>actually</em> the definition of <em>common knowledge</em>," Aster pointed out, only to be ignored by everyone.</p>
<p>"And you can tell this by <em>looking</em> at her." The skepticism in Arcturus's voice was almost palpable.</p>
<p>"Yes? I mean, I'm not <em>great</em> at reading souls — they tend to make complicated impressions on external magic and obviously I'm a shite legilimens, I can't get <em>inside</em> them, I'd probably need a couple of analytics to properly visualise most people's — but I <em>know</em> Asteria and the echoes she makes in the world, and the Curse has a fairly distinctive pattern. There are still traces of it in her blood, and to a lesser extent in the flesh around the physical wounds. The kernels haven't entirely lost coherency yet, but they're obviously no longer active."</p>
<p>Arcturus, like Lily, just stared, entirely at a loss for words. Aster, though, rolled her eyes. "I keep telling you, <em>humans can't see patterns in ambient magic</em>, Bella!"</p>
<p>"I'm not looking at ambient magic at the moment. Well, mostly. It does move <em>slightly</em> differently around werewolves, but the traces in your animus are far more noticeable, and they'd be behaving differently if they'd taken."</p>
<p>Normal people couldn't see the patterns in the magic of a person's body without a magesight charm, either, and even <em>with</em> a charm — which was fairly common, Madam Pomfrey had taught Lily the one most healers used back in September — they were still <em>incredibly confusing</em>, but being able to look at a person and diagnose curse damage on them wasn't <em>quite</em> as absurd as seeing patterns in ambient magic. Even people whose magesight was sensitive enough to see ambient magic, like Aster, couldn't make out actual <em>patterns</em> in it. They were too subtle, and too <em>close</em> — like trying to make out the patterns of air currents in a fog bank, while standing in the fog.</p>
<p>"Which you would know because...?" Arcturus asked, sounding rather disturbed, though the only hint of it in his face was a slight widening of his hooded eyes.</p>
<p>Bella grinned. "Well, obviously I've watched people be turned before. And I've been bitten twice now myself, so I've had ample opportunity to watch what happens when the Curse <em>fails</em> to take, too." Lord Black, on the opposite side of the little pod of chairs from Lily, let his eyes flick toward the ceiling like <em>Powers preserve my sanity in the face of the madness which is Bellatrix</em>, and he drained his drink, summoning the decanter to pour himself another as she blithely went on. "But as I said, I <em>know</em> Aster. I might not be able to read her mind, but I <em>definitely</em> know what her magic is supposed to look like—"</p>
<p>"Also not something normal people can see," Aster interjected.</p>
<p>"—and she's fine. <em>Also</em>, I stand by my assessment of the general irrelevance of the limitations of normal people. Their designations of <em>possible</em> or <em>impossible</em> are clearly arbitrary, which you would <em>know</em> if—"</p>
<p>Aster cut her off, voice heavy with exasperation. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I should stop filtering out ambient magic, and I'd probably be able to do your freaky inhuman magesight tricks, too." If <em>Lily</em> had that kind of potential, she'd <em>definitely</em> learn how to use it, no matter <em>how</em> annoying and confusing it was until she mastered it. (Or how blinding the wards of Hogwarts were — that was apparently also a problem.) "Whatever. Do you know <em>why</em> I'm <em>definitely not a werewolf</em>? Because it'd be nice to have something to, you know, <em>tell people</em>."</p>
<p>Bella hesitated for a moment. "Because you used that ritual you shared with Thom to graft a dog's instincts into your own soul so deeply you might as well be wilderfolk? I mean, not like you can really <em>tell people</em> that, I guess, but that's our theory for why you haven't Turned. Mine and Thom's."</p>
<p>Both Aster and Arcturus seemed to be somewhat speechless at this revelation.</p>
<p>Lily somehow managed to choke on air as she realised the implications of that suggestion. "Did you two just– just casually find a bloody <em>vaccine</em> for the werewolf curse?!"</p>
<p>Bella snorted. "No. The ritual Aster used is intended to be a superficial thing to help bird-animagi learn how to fly without killing themselves, not a true therianthropic metamorphic integration. I doubt most people are capable of so fully committing themselves to the process, especially if they haven't already mastered a physical animal transformation, and those who are likely don't have the experience with subsumation to survive it. Plus, you know, fucking about with therianthropy rituals is one of the most likely suspects for the initialisation point of the Curse — try that sort of thing with the express purpose of thwarting the Curse and <em>fail</em>, and you might just end up with more <em>strains</em> of the Curse floating around."</p>
<p>"Er...right. Never mind." It would've been <em>so neat</em> if they had, though...</p>
<p>"I concur," Bella said firmly. "Amusing as it is that Aster has come to join me in entirely baffling your sense of what is and is not possible, Uncle, we both know that's not why you asked us here, today. So. You have a problem with my decision to adopt the girls," she prompted him.</p>
<p>He cleared his throat, eyes flicking from Bella — almost too comfortable, with her feet curled up on her chair and a challenging, almost smug smirk on her face — to Aster — vaguely annoyed, clearly <em>not</em> comfortable, eyeing the decanter as though considering whether she dared summon it away from her Head of House — to Lily herself.</p>
<p>She couldn't really guess what she looked like to him, but she was mostly just finding this whole conversation <em>fascinating</em>. Not only its topic — though the werewolf curse <em>was</em> fascinating in its own right, and some of the hints Bella had dropped over the few hours they'd spoken suggested she knew <em>much</em> more about magic, that she <em>perceived</em> more about magic, than anyone else Lily had ever spoken to. Regardless of her claim that there was really nothing unusual about her ability to see and interpret ambient magical patterns, the fact remained that Lily had never even heard a suggestion that such a thing was possible from <em>anyone</em> else.</p>
<p>The pressure around the edges of her mind briefly intensified. "One might say that."</p>
<p>"May I ask <em>why</em>?" Lily asked, since Bella clearly had no intention of doing so, distracted by a sign language conversation with Aster, of which Lily understood nothing. Arcturus might have, but his eyes were firmly fixed on her. "I mean, I can see maybe not wanting to re-inherit Asteria after she kind of pulled the rug out from under your Family Magic, but I don't believe I've done anything to offend the House of Black, or you personally, my Lord. Unless refusing to allow you to legilimise me is considered offensive, I guess."</p>
<p>Lord Black raised an eyebrow. Had he not realised that she could feel his attempts to find a weakness in her defences?</p>
<p>"I said you could ignore him, didn't I?" Bella asked, either because she didn't understand the distinction Lily was making here between <em>it's not necessary</em> to let him legilimise her and <em>it's not polite</em> to <em>not</em> let him, or because she wasn't sure whether her Parsel had been comprehensible. Which would be a legitimate concern — Lily had only managed to understand her about half the time when she and Thom had first been teasing her in the snake-language, back on Samhain, but she was getting better at picking through her weird, non-magical accent. (Honestly, it was slightly baffling that <em>Bella</em> could understand <em>her</em>, Lily couldn't even pick out the differences between most of the sounds when she tried to just focus on them and not the magic.)</p>
<p>"Well, <em>yes</em>, but I believe you've also told me that politeness is for people who are afraid of offending other people, so you can understand my uncertainty."</p>
<p>"Well, it <em>is</em>, but no, it's not impolite to just not let him into your mind. And you don't want to get into the complexities of adding a level of mind-magic sparring beneath the existing conversational undercurrents. And overt conversational traps, for that matter. And since he appears to be disinclined to answer <em>your </em>question: why, precisely, do you disapprove of my adopting Asphodel, Uncle?"</p>
<p>"<em>If</em> the House were to revive the practice of adopting outsiders — and I'm sure you and Asteria are both fully aware of the reasons that practice was abandoned in previous centuries, Niece — it would <em>not</em> be to adopt the nameless bastard of that nameless bastard you're so besotted with, simply because you find the idea of sharing a child with him to be absolutely <em>irresistible</em>." Ah. So this was about <em>Thom</em>.</p>
<p>Bellatrix glowered, interrupting before he could continue on to his next reason — Lily presumed he did have more than one. "I'm sure <em>you're</em> aware, <em>Uncle</em>, that I am not so easily swayed by such girlish emotional motivations as you imply. And Asphodel is favoured by Persephone — I <em>sincerely</em> doubt that her children will <em>not</em> have Magic's favour in turn. You may safely lay aside your fear of an embarrassing proliferation of Black squibs in subsequent generations."</p>
<p>"Ha!" The patriarch gave a sharp, dismissive laugh, ignoring the latter point, presumably addressing the reason the Blacks had abandoned their one-time adoption practices, entirely. "Then what is your motive for bringing the nameless chit into the House if <em>not</em> for your infatuation with her sire?"</p>
<p>Bella pouted at him. "Am I not allowed to find her entertaining on her own merit?"</p>
<p>"Given that you never petitioned me to adopt the Zabini girl, I think not."</p>
<p>"You really should make Zee your blood-sister, or Asphodel's godmother or something, though," Aster inserted. "I was going to write you, but I forgot — she's basically already a Black anyway, and she knows us too well to be an outsider."</p>
<p>"We've had a reciprocal conpatres agreement since we were teenagers, Aster. Zee's relationship to the House is not in question, here. Don't change the subject. And I'm arguably as responsible for Asphodel's existence as Thom. If he'd had <em>his</em> way, I would have killed her mother once she'd served her purpose, and Asphodel would never have been born. I would hold an interest in her existence regardless of whether Thom recognised her as his — though he'd have to be blind and stupid not to."</p>
<p>"So you're claiming a maternal responsibility simply because you refrained from killing the girl's bearer?" Arcturus said skeptically. "You would have been, what, <em>nine</em>? I'm inclined to say that doesn't count."</p>
<p>Bella shrugged. "That and I've been informed that we female people have certain maternal instincts that supposedly kick in at a certain age, regardless of our personal preferences and better judgment on the issue of offspring."</p>
<p>Aster gaped at her cousin. "You <em>what</em>?"</p>
<p>Bella giggled. "It's true, Dru warned me about it. She blames Narcissa's existence on hormones and wine. Also her Lovegood violinist having more poetry and compassion in his soul than the entire House of Black combined." When Aster continued to gape, she added, "She was <em>very</em> drunk. Possibly on Wyrm. Possibly because I thought it would be funny to see her react without censoring herself for once. I definitely wasn't wrong."</p>
<p>"Isn't it lucky, then," Arcturus said drily, ignoring Bella's confession of drugging her mother for giggles, "that you're engaged to be married. Plenty of opportunity and indeed <em>obligation</em> to produce offspring of your own — Powers preserve us all. Have you spoken to the Lestranges about this? I had not considered it, but your simply <em>acquiring</em> a daughter or two <em>would</em> necessitate a renegotiation of your nuptial contract, would it not?"</p>
<p>"I don't see how. Asphodel and Asteria would remain daughters of the House of Black, regardless of my relationship to it. There is, I believe, precedent in Maia Acantha's marriage into the Fortescue family after bearing three bastards for the House."</p>
<p>"Thus undermining the argument that you wish to take any responsibility for either of them, maternally motivated or otherwise," Arcturus (reasonably) pointed out.</p>
<p>"Quite the contrary: at this age, assuring their social and financial security is all an adoptive parent might reasonably be expected to do for them, which integrating them into the House — or properly situating her in the inheritance structure of the House, in Aster's case — would easily achieve. It's hardly as though they require a caretaker."</p>
<p>Arcturus's disapproving frown grew grimmer. "I will not re-inherit <em>Asteria</em>, Bellatrix. Regardless of the conditions under which she chose to act against the House and any remorse she may feel for those actions — not that I believe she truly harbours any such feeling — the restoration of equilibrium to her mind does not ameliorate the consequences of her choices while Mad, for us or for her. She's lucky to continue to bear our name. I will not <em>reward</em> her running off and getting a bloody sex-change by allowing her to claim rights as a fully recognised member of the Family!"</p>
<p>"For the record," Aster spat, glaring right back at him, "I never <em>claimed</em> 'any such feeling', as you put it. I'm not sorry, I don't regret it, and you can go fuck yourself if you think me being a girl now has a damn thing to do with any of this!"</p>
<p>Bella's response was much calmer. "Hmm, if you think back on it, Uncle, I believe you might find that the actual underlying destabilising force behind the episode which resulted in Asteria breaking the Covenant was a combination of you forcing her to participate in the Yule ritual on pain of being entirely cast out, and me cruciating her in the wake of the ritual, leading her to believe I hated her. Walburga pressuring her to renew her vows to the House on Lammas almost certainly sparked off the specific incident, but she had to have been planning it for some time, at least on <em>some</em> level.</p>
<p>"I'm not saying she isn't responsible to some degree and I know you <em>really</em> don't know what it feels like to be Mad, but you <em>do</em> know what it looks like when one of us is falling into it. The signs are obvious enough in hindsight. If nothing else, we bear a degree of responsibility as well for alienating her and failing to realise her increasing instability. Which is why I offered to adopt <em>her</em>, in case you were wondering — though becoming a girl and in so doing earning the forgiveness of the Dark for breaking the Covenant doesn't hurt — and why you <em>will</em> have the forbearance to allow it."</p>
<p>"I will do no such thing!" Lord Black declared, nostrils flaring as he scoffed at her. "I know you think yourself in a position to make demands, Bellatrix, but that is simply not the case, and on this subject I will <em>not</em> be moved!"</p>
<p>"How often do I <em>actually</em> make demands of you, Uncle? I think I can count the number of times on one hand. And you give me what I want every single time I <em>make</em> an actual demand because I <em>am</em> in a position to challenge you for the leadership of this House, and have been since I was Asteria's age. If the Dark has forgiven her — and it has — you have no right to contest—"</p>
<p>"The <em>fuck</em> I have no right! I am the Lord of this House, Bellatrix! And that– that <em>thoughtless</em> little <em>shite</em> fucked <em>us</em> over as much as the Dark in breaking the Covenant! I have <em>every</em> right to refuse to exonerate her, she—"</p>
<p>"She acted like a child of the Dark, pushed beyond the bounds of sanity by the pressures of being a member of this House under a neglectful shite like <em>you</em>, Archie, <em>darling</em>," Bellatrix interrupted, her voice dangerously cold. Hard. <em>Uncompromising</em>. "If the House dies in this generation, that's on <em>you</em> as its Lord, not on her. If you'd done your fucking job — reined in the excesses of our parents' generation, paid even the <em>least</em> attention to the problems festering under your fucking nose — she wouldn't have felt the need to break the Covenant any more than I would have needed to make the fucking Choice. You will <em>not</em> cross me on this."</p>
<p>"Or what? We both know you don't <em>want </em>to challenge me for the leadership of the House. If you did, we wouldn't be having this discussion, would we? If you truly think you would have done a better job, the fault is as much yours as mine for failing to take on the responsibility yourself!"</p>
<p>"Yes. We <em>do</em> both know that, don't we. Perhaps I'm as selfish and irresponsible as anyone else in this fucking family, when it comes right down to it. But it's recently come to my attention that Narcissa and Regulus would be open to a dynastic marriage—" Arcturus attempted to interrupt, but Bella refused to stop talking. "— which would allow me to abdicate in favour of Cissy within a few years. We both <em>also</em> know that Asteria is my daughter in spirit more than any of the other two dozen and more children of this House I've had a hand in raising, and I'm fairly certain I've made it clear on multiple occasions that if you refuse to defer to my judgment when it comes to her I <em>will</em> take the decision in question away from you, regardless of how little I envy you the position of patriarch."</p>
<p>Aster seemed to lose her composure at that — as though she didn't already know that Bella considered her a daughter in all but name. She bit her lower lip to stop it wobbling, and summoned the decanter away from Arcturus after all, throwing back a quick shot and pouring another to sip at. Neither he nor Bella seemed to notice, their attention fixed on their furious staring contest. Lily did, but their chairs were too far apart to reach over to her, so she had to make do with a reassuring smile.</p>
<p>"Yes, you <em>have</em> taken a more direct role in raising her, haven't you? Your little <em>favourite</em>," he spat, as though it was some sort of insult or embarrassment, that Bella should favour Aster above her cousins. "Why is that again? Oh, yes, because you twisted little Sirius's soul to mirror yours in the effort to save his worthless life. I should have let him die!"</p>
<p>"Oh, <em>fuck</em> you, Archie! <em>That</em> wasn't your choice either, and you were glad enough for my actions at the time — Siri was the only viable heir to the House, you almost killed <em>Orion</em> for his stupid, reckless hatred! <em>I've</em> thought that she would be the redemption of the House in the eyes of the Dark since she was about <em>four</em>. She was my favourite even before I saved her soul, she is the only member of the House with whom I feel any actual sense of kinship and I <em>will</em> be adopting her! This is no more negotiable than my decision to raise her and Narcissa in kind, or my curtailment of Walburga's programme of polarised magic lessons, or my refusal to allow you to attempt to correct her obsession with James Potter, or—"</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, and look what <em>that</em> got us! Your would-be <em>redemption of the House</em> is a broken, disgraced blood-traitor who turned himself into a girl on a lark! Leaving us with the soft-hearted baby of the House, or a bastard bitch with no Black blood to speak of — I will <em>not</em> allow you to marry the two of them to each other, can you imagine the scandal, two third-degree marriages in two generations? — which means—"</p>
<p>"Oh, yes, such a fabulous Head of House you are, more concerned with the opinions of Society than the good of the House! Cissy's blood is clean, she and Regulus are an <em>excellent</em> match in terms of pedigree, so fuck the scandal! Aster turning herself into a girl is hardly relevant, and I never approved of Potter any more than you did, but attempting to twist a mind you have <em>never</em> understood into an entirely new shape was never anything more than a recipe for <em>disaster</em> — the arithmancy suggested that she'd kill herself within the year! And you're one to complain about her being <em>broken</em> — is that not the <em>point</em> of the approach the House takes to raising children? If you <em>don't</em> manage to break them, they might end up challenging your decisions and— Oh, <em>wait.</em>"</p>
<p>She cut off with a heavy glare, obviously making a point about their own relationship, though Lily wasn't certain that it was entirely valid. Bella might have found a way to come back stronger and more dangerous after being broken, but from what she'd gathered from Aster and a few dropped comments discussing the Covenant and Bella's Choice with the woman herself, she <em>had</em> actually been fairly thoroughly broken when she was very small.</p>
<p>Arcturus quoted a short, harsh phrase at her, something in Gobbledygook.</p>
<p>Bella's glare only narrowed. Magic snapped in the air around her and she leaned forward, as though on the verge of rising to her feet, but her nails dug into the leather arms of her chair, clearly physically restraining herself from reaching for a weapon. Obviously she <em>was </em>attempting to keep her temper. "People are not swords, Uncle, and if they were, it would not be Asteria's fault that Orion's impatience shattered her before she was properly tempered. Do you recall our conversation that evening? The one where you begged the Dark to spare your pathetic life despite your utter <em>failure</em> to act in the interests of the <em>future</em> of the House — not only with <em>me</em>, but with Aster as well? The one where you begged <em>me</em> to salvage your heir, if I thought there was any chance of doing so, and agreed that to that end, I would have the final word in <em>all</em> matters to do with her raising and education? Asteria is <em>mine</em>, and you <em>will</em> officially recognise that fact."</p>
<p>"I. Will. <em>Not</em>," Arcturus hissed between clenched teeth. "You <em>failed</em>, Bellatrix!"</p>
<p>The hiss that escaped <em>Bella's</em> clenched teeth held a rather different meaning. «Eat yourself and die!» Lily, taking a sip of her neglected drink, fell into a fit of coughing, choking on the burning liquor as she was startled into laughter. "I did <em>not!</em> She's <em>alive</em>, she's willing to embrace the House again despite the best efforts of you and everyone else to drive her away over the past five years—"</p>
<p>"You <em>did!</em> You alienated her as much as I did— You <em>used the Cruciatus</em> on her!"</p>
<p>"That was a miscommunication, and Aster has forgiven me for it."</p>
<p>"A <em>miscommunication?!</em> You failed— <em>Your</em> child is an adult now, and she's a blood traitor! Worse than useless! If there weren't so few of us left, I would have disowned her entirely back in August! I will <em>not</em> condone your adoption of her! Not under any circumstances!"</p>
<p>"Then you leave me no choice!" Bella snapped, that declaration followed by another in Welsh, and a positive <em>flood</em> of magic into the space at the centre of the little circle of chairs, an equal amount of power drawn through Arcturus, who winced as he was caught up in the...spell? It didn't really <em>feel</em> like a proper spell. It <em>felt</em>, in fact, like the Family Magic, pulling away from both of them as well as from Aster and the walls and the very <em>air</em> to circle around the room.</p>
<p>The Family Magic, as Bella had described it, discussing with Lily what it meant to be adopted by the House, was a sentient entity — not human, but undeniably thinking and feeling. It drew its strength from the living members of the House, its Head more directly than the rest of them, but Lily would almost certainly notice the draw on her magic when she completed the adoption ritual. It bound them together — they could draw on it too, at need, and through it each other. It was originally, she claimed, the product of the interactions between the intent of dozens of blood wards, their power augmented over <em>centuries</em> by human sacrifices and the strength of the bloodline, and their priorities and collective personality, influenced by those of every member of the House who had ever held some connection to it, rather like an Aspect was influenced by the beliefs of those within its sphere of influence.</p>
<p>Bella wouldn't go so far as to say the Black Family Magic had its own <em>soul</em> (maybe it was more like the <em>collective</em> soul of the Family?), but it was certainly <em>conscious</em>. Its priorities were supposedly always there, at the back of the minds of the members of the House, reminding them of their responsibility to it, even sometimes sort of...speaking to them. Not in words, so much as in images and feelings. Dreams, sometimes. Some of them could, supposedly, understand it more clearly than others — Bella left it unsaid that she was one of those to whom it spoke clearly, though Lily had understood that to be the case.</p>
<p>The Covenant that Aster had broken had been woven through it, its breaking destabilising the Family Magic in a way, severing a connection to the Dark none of the human members of the House had been fully aware of. <em>Unbalancing</em> it, though it had begun to regain its sense of equilibrium, investing itself more deeply in the remaining members of the House. That was, Bella suspected, the actual reason Arcturus hadn't wanted to disown Aster — she had hurt them, it was true, but she was still one of the stronger mages in the family, and as such an important pillar of support for the vitality of the Family Magic. <em>It</em> hadn't wanted him to disown her. Lily didn't have the same magical prowess most of the members of the House boasted, but Bella had warned her that the magic was likely to latch onto her just as fiercely as any of them because she had a strength of will and certitude that was generally lacking in the trueborn members of the House.</p>
<p>Lily...wasn't really sure what to make of that. She didn't know what it meant, exactly, what the consequences might be of the...spirit of the House of Black sort of...taking direction from her? It was one thing for <em>Aster</em> to take direction from her — she was only one person, and a fairly self-sufficient person at that. Lily's goals, as long as she could remember, had largely revolved around achieving a comfortable life for herself and Sev, with the kind of security they had only dreamed of growing up. Living somewhere pretty, where they didn't have to worry about <em>money</em> and <em>finding work</em> (the twin eternal worries of every adult in Cokeworth). Somewhere kids didn't trip over dead kittens in alleys on their way home from school, and they'd never have to see the stupid bullies who liked to give Sev shite for having some vestiges of pride and self-worth despite being even poorer than they were. Where he wouldn't go hungry or have to wear clothes from charity bins in the first place, but if he did there wouldn't be anyone around who would beat him up for refusing to <em>act</em> poor and desperate. Maybe with an actual <em>garden</em>.</p>
<p>When they'd started school and she realised exactly how <em>ridiculous</em> the magical world was, how utterly asinine it was in its treatment of muggleborns and ritualists and anyone not entirely <em>human</em> and <em>mundane</em>, that definition of <em>comfortable</em> had expanded to include being able to practise magic as she wished, without interference from arseholes who didn't know a damn thing about her <em>or</em> Magic. She <em>liked</em> the idea of a Dark Revolution, or even of taking their ball and going home, in a sense — saying <em>fuck this shite</em> to Britain and starting a <em>better</em> nation from scratch — she could easily see involving herself in Thom and Bella's movement, pushing for a less <em>violent</em> approach, one with less collateral damage, and there was plenty of room in that plan for Aster as well.</p>
<p>But somehow she doubted that the spirit of the House taking direction from her was quite the same thing. She still wasn't entirely certain what it <em>was</em>, really. Its presentation was, in Bella's words, not exactly a protective ancestor spirit nor an actual totem, nor an independent place-bound spirit embodying the ethos of the people who lived there (like a poltergeist or nisse), but somewhat reminiscent of all of them. (Lily still liked the idea of thinking of it as a collective soul of the entire House, a sort of <em>genius familiae</em>.)</p>
<p>It was simple, she said, emotionally speaking. Straightforward and unapologetically itself. Not unlike Bella, she'd admitted with a surprisingly self-aware smirk. Lily hadn't been entirely off in imagining it to be some sort of dangerous animal, though it might be better thought of as a wolf than a cat. It might be dismissive of outsiders it had determined were not a threat, but it was fiercely protective of its Family. Like the rest of them, really — it was hard to say where the influence of the Family Magic on its people ended, and the brainwashing the children were subjected to began.</p>
<p>The Family Magic, though, was more...nurturing, Bella claimed, than the collective attitude of the human members of the House. It might be rooted in them and their blood wards, but the Black elves had had a significant impact on it as well, over the centuries. Their connection to it was rather different, supposedly, less of a support system — or rather, what <em>elves</em> considered a 'support' system was more a system of <em>restraints</em> on their magic than reinforcing it and making them stronger. Like a seat-belt, or parachute harness. They weren't <em>slaves</em>, as some of the things Lily had heard about the role of elves from light noble kids implied, they <em>were</em> members of the Family, but what they needed from the House was different than the humans' needs. They took pride in keeping the Black properties in good order and taking care of its people — both human and elvin — in a way the human Blacks tended to be too selfish and anti-social to consider a priority, and that bled over to the Family Magic as much as the humans' pride in their strength, independence, and resilience.</p>
<p>The Family Magic cared for them and supported them, but it wasn't <em>subservient </em>to the members of the House, or even its Lord. In some ways, Bella said, the Head of the House should be thought of as its partner in taking care of the rest of them. He <em>could</em> use the Family Magic to impose his will on any of them, but he had to convince the Family Magic it was in the interests of the House as a whole to do so. Patriarchs who tried to <em>force</em> the Family Magic to do their will tended not to last very long because, though a sitting Head of the House could designate their heir and they were most often accepted, it <em>was</em> ultimately the choice of the Family Magic whether it would cooperate with any given individual. It had its own favourites, and had been known to abandon a Head of House if they attempted to abuse it or its power in ways that in fact <em>damaged</em> the House.</p>
<p>And a member of the House, if they were dissatisfied with the leadership of the Head of their House, could challenge that leadership, making their case to the Family Magic directly and offering themselves up instead. There was some need to demonstrate a certain degree of channelling capacity in order to make a challenge, Bella hadn't been terribly specific about what it was — something about the Family Magic drawing on the Head of the House for support more directly than the rest of them?</p>
<p>But in any case, Lily was fairly certain that was what she was witnessing, here: a challenge over the leadership of the House.</p>
<p>The flow of magic slowed and ceased, power in the air condensing into a trio of ravens, which shifted to take the form of an androgynous, feather-clad child as it came to rest between them again, looking from one to the next with all-black, star-flecked eyes. It lingered on Lily and Aster, frozen in shock, for a moment but then dismissed them, instead addressing more Welsh to Bella and Arcturus, who had both risen to their feet — before leaping back into the air and investing itself in Bella, with no ceremony to speak of. The birds which were the manifestation of the magic simply flew <em>into</em> her, <em>through</em> her, transforming as it did back into the formless non-construct, its energy flowing back to the wards and the members of the House.</p>
<p>It <em>almost</em> felt as though nothing had changed, at least to Lily. The energy surrounding her felt a little more...chaotic. More active, with more potential. Arcturus fell back into his chair, obviously exhausted. His eyes drifted closed as magic continued to pour out of Bella into the wards. Her eyes glowed violet, a painfully wide grin stretched across her face as she did...whatever she was doing, or let the Family Magic do whatever <em>it</em> was doing <em>to</em> her.</p>
<p>Was this normal? Lily didn't know, and she didn't think Aster did either, meeting her questioning look with a wide-eyed, slightly terrified stare.</p>
<p>Even if it <em>was</em> normal, how long could she keep this up? The <em>walls</em> were glowing, the wards growing visible as they were overcharged — that couldn't <em>possibly</em> be healthy...</p>
<p>And then it cut off, all at once, like a switch being flipped, as Bella collapsed bonelessly to the floor.</p>
<p>Aster was on her knees beside her almost instantly, wounds apparently forgotten in her concern. "Bella?!"</p>
<p>She had a pulse, Lily could feel it beating under her fingers, weak and thready, but growing steadier even as she tried to decide whether it was a good idea to try to move her or wake her up. Aster had no such compunctions, jolting her awake with a quick and medically questionable <em>ennervate</em>.</p>
<p>She woke with a gasp, eyes snapping open as adrenaline shot through her system, though they weren't quite focused, and the words that tripped off her tongue definitely weren't English (or French, or Welsh, or any other language Lily recognised).</p>
<p>"Bella? You're speaking Elvish, and it's scaring me."</p>
<p>Bella closed her eyes, a hand rising to massage her forehead. "'Ah, fuck, ow, that's a hell of a rush,'" she mumbled, the lack of emotion suggesting she was translating her earlier words. "Also, 'did it work?'"</p>
<p>"Did what work?" Lily asked, somewhat reassured that she obviously recognised that they were supposed to be speaking English, understood that Aster <em>hadn't</em> understood what she'd said before, and had the presence and awareness to attempt to explain herself — if not entirely successfully.</p>
<p>"Oh, it did, good."</p>
<p>"Bella, what are you talking about?" Aster demanded, still sounding <em>very</em> worried.</p>
<p>The new Lady Black sat up and blinked, the whites of her eyes abruptly vanishing, and turned to catch Aster's with an inhuman, birdlike quickness. "You... We try to save you. Light magic to make you like it. We cannot stop it. We are... <em>Would </em>help. But you...push away."</p>
<p>Aster winced. "Ah...That was...on purpose. I meant to do that — make my magic like the Light. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I meant to hurt <em>them</em>, Walburga and Arcturus, and Bella even, but not... I'm sorry. I...wasn't thinking very clearly."</p>
<p>"Hurt, trapped little dog scared-mad-angry, bites, hurts all?"</p>
<p>Lily assumed that meant the Family Magic thought Sirius had been like a wild animal backed into a corner, striking out indiscriminately, which as far as she knew wasn't quite accurate, but Aster seemed to doubt her ability to explain that. She just gave an awkward, one-shouldered shrug. "Kind of?"</p>
<p>The magic possessing Bella nodded very seriously. "We understand. Little dog not scared-mad-angry, now? Is still of us. Must know this, always. Still <em>Family</em>."</p>
<p>"Yeah, I know, I'm still part of the Family. You don't need to hover, though, I'm fine. And you didn't...<em>let me</em> get hurt, or whatever. I did that on purpose. And I really <em>am</em> sorry I hurt you," she added, clearly anxious. Probably because <em>I'm sorry</em> didn't mean much to purebloods — if you wanted to apologise, Lily knew, you had to do something to <em>make up</em> for the offence. And whatever breaking the Covenant had done to the Black Family Magic, Aster probably wasn't in a position to fix it.</p>
<p>The Family Magic grinned, gesturing at itself — at Bella. "This one...makes us whole. We are well. And you. All well. Is good."</p>
<p>And then it blinked and was gone, the light-flecked darkness of Bella's eyes retreating to their irises. She groaned, letting herself fall back to the floor. "Possessing me on top of forcing me to over-channel to heal yourself is <em>not good for me</em>," she informed the ceiling, before letting her head flop to one side to address the girls. "I'm fine. Going back to sleep. Do me a favour and <em>don't</em> <em>ennervate</em> me this time? Cheers."</p>
<p>Lily was pretty sure she was unconscious before either of them managed to come up with anything to say in response.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Family Matters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Of course Bella, being herself, was back on her feet the next day, sooner than ought to have been humanly possible. She spent the majority of the week, as I recall, dealing with goblins — renegotiating certain stewardship agreements, which was a thing which had to be done on the transferring of the lordship of any House, and drawing up the contract to make my adoption official. A slightly smaller proportion of the week was spent attempting to break off her engagement with Dolph Lestrange without seriously offending Robert, their Lord at the time.</p><p>My understanding of the situation is, Bella had originally proposed the arrangement because de Mort asked her to find a way to gain control of the Lestranges' fortune, which Robert had been reluctant to invest as the Death Eaters wished, despite both of his sons pressuring him to do so. In the usual course of things, if a lord died, contracts under negotiation might suffer a bit of a hiccough of sorts, perhaps be dissolved if the new lord disagreed with the alliance — but that was relatively rare, since most lords of a certain age began to involve their chosen successor in their plans to ensure a smooth transfer of power.</p><p>Since Bella was <em>not</em> Arcturus's chosen successor, it wouldn't have been unexpected for her to dissolve the as-yet-unsigned contract between herself and Lestrange if <em>he</em> had been the motivating force behind it (no one was surprised that she called off negotiations with Malfoy over Cissy), and obviously <em>Lady Black</em> couldn't marry into another family, taking their name and so on, which would have been an equally good reason to call it all off... Except, <em>Bella</em> was the one who had proposed it all, and when she told Dolph that, <em>oh, drat, can't marry out of the House, now</em>, he promptly went to his father and requested permission for <em>himself</em> to take the <em>Black</em> name, which was just...no.</p><p><em>No</em>.</p><p>The House of Black has <em>standards</em>, especially for its Lord (or its Lady's consort), and Rudolphus Lestrange did <em>not</em> meet those standards. And while the Death Eaters really didn't need the Lestranges' money since Bella, as <em>Lady Black</em>, could freely access our <em>own </em>vaults, rendering de Mort's original request moot, breaking things off with him would still cause problems within the organisation. Dolph and Bastian were relatively influential within the Death Eaters and, more importantly, actually good field officers — all of the Death Eaters might be taught to fight, but not all of them were good at it, and even fewer were suited to command.</p><p>I'm still not <em>entirely</em> certain how it happened. One day I heard that Robert's opinion on the whole matter was that a marriage with the Blacks was still a marriage with the Blacks, and Bastian could inherit the House of Lestrange as easily as Dolph, and the next that was completely unacceptable, but I suspect mind magic was involved.</p><p>Especially since <em>Thom de Mort</em> was officially announced as the consort of the Lady Black in the Prophet on the morning of my seventeenth birthday. (Whatever else I might say about "Lord Sparklebum" — and yes, I know, I say a great many unflattering things about him — he <em>does</em> meet the standards the House holds for the magical ability and ruthlessness of its leaders.)</p><p>Arcturus was <em>livid</em> when he found out, but Arcturus is <em>not</em> Bella, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it when he finally recovered from the ordeal of having the Family Magic stripped away from him three days after the announcement. (It's possible Bella made a point of getting as much of the administrative dragonshite out of the way before he woke up for <em>exactly</em> that reason.)</p><p>There <em>is</em>, by the way, an actual ritual to do that, without seriously risking the health and mental faculties of both the former and the future Lords of the House, Evans. A challenge to the authority of the Lord of the House isn't meant to be issued and dealt with so...informally. It's almost the same as the difference between calling someone to a public duel and just walking up and knifing them in the street. Granted, that is how it <em>used</em> to be done back in the years immediately following the establishment of the Covenant, each Lord stripping the magic away from the last essentially by brute force. But by the Nineteen-Seventies, no one had done that for <em>centuries</em>. I suspect the only reason Arcturus <em>didn't</em> die was that the Family Magic had already been relying on him as little as possible for <em>years</em> by that point.</p><p>That was what it said, when it spoke to them: <em>We have waited so long for you to welcome us again, chaos-child. Is it time, now?</em></p><p>Walburga used to tell a story, when I was acting particularly <em>Bella-esque</em> as a child, about trying to take me back from her in the wake of Orion's attack on me, and Bella, star-eyed, telling her to piss off, that I was <em>hers,</em> as of that moment. I loved that story because I loved Bella, I would have been overjoyed if I'd been allowed to live with her instead of Walburga. (Even if she had been, as she later pointed out, still in school at the time.) I'm sure she <em>told</em> it in more of a <em>you're a lost cause, this is me throwing up my hands</em> attitude, but that's hardly the point. Until Bella stripped the Family Magic from Arcturus — actually, for quite some time after that, maybe until I was telling Seth about it the first time? — I thought Bella had still been possessed by the Dark when she claimed me as her own. But when the Dark possesses someone, if it doesn't glamour them, their eyes are <em>black</em>.</p><p><em>Now</em>, I strongly suspect that the Family Magic <em>tried</em> to abandon Arcturus that night, in favour of Bella. Perhaps I was aware of it on some unconscious level — I had told Reggie more than once in the intervening years that if she'd wanted to be Lady Black she could have had it then. In truth, though, I was only thinking of the way she made her demands of him regarding Orion, and he just <em>agreed</em>. Bella must have told it that she wanted to keep her freedom, rather than be locked into the position of Lady of the House at the age of seventeen. I know for a fact that she wasn't the <em>least</em> bit disappointed that Arcturus had decided to train me as an heir instead of her, though she had still been acting as his designated successor, leading the Yule ritual with him. (Obviously, Cygnus and Orion were each as bad as the other, and I was far too small to execute anyone, at least with any degree of dignity.)</p><p>Obviously she was still a favourite of the Family Magic, though, even if she had turned it down. It didn't even seem to mind that she was practically, for all metaphysical purposes, married to de Mort — though it <em>did</em> apparently demand that he swear to align his goals and priorities with the House of Black as a whole...but I'm getting ahead of myself, now. That little ritual took place on my seventeenth birthday too, but <em>after</em> my adoption and Evans's, and the naming of Zee as Evans's godmother, and Cissy and Reggie's informal betrothal, and their slightly less informal agreement to stand as Bella's heirs, and <em>well</em> after the end of the party which was the <em>public</em> celebration of these events.</p>
<hr/><p>"Come on, we're going to be late!" Narcissa snapped, leading the way through Aster's favourite hidden passage toward Hogsmeade.</p><p>Aster scowled at the back of her cloaked and hooded head. She could barely see it, with Reggie, Snape, Evan, Alice, and Violette between them. She and Evans were bringing up the rear because it was <em>almost</em> the new moon, but still...not...quite. (It was driving her mad, being injured.) "I really don't think my birthday party is going to start without me, Cissy," she called back.</p><p><em>My </em>depressingly Slytherin <em>birthday party...</em></p><p>Well, Vi was a Ravenclaw, and Remy had promised to come too (he was already at Ancient House, he couldn't very well <em>refuse</em>), but she hadn't exactly been able to invite any of her more casual friends from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Alice was only here because Aunt Lucy had mentioned that Aster was being re-inherited at her birthday party, and <em>aren't you two friends?</em> Not that they <em>weren't</em> friends, exactly, they just didn't spend all that much time hanging out together outside of the occasional Hufflepuff House party. Alice was one of the little cohort of students in Aster's year who had decided to take their NEWTs with the idea of applying to the Aurors in mind, but she was a <em>little</em> too much like Molly for Aster to really enjoy spending time with her. Too buttoned down and serious and rules-following-y.</p><p>Though she supposed Alice did actually seem to be serious about the Auror thing, joining Marley and Amy and Jane in their quest to convince Cassie to teach them <em>good</em> self-defence spells. (Cassie was <em>very</em> annoyed. She might find Aster insufferably...<em>Aster</em>, at times, but at least she wasn't a rank novice Cassie felt obligated to help when they asked. She and Aster could actually have a half-decent sparring session, especially now Aster's magic was aligned properly. Alice and her friends...not so much.) Aster thought that suggested that Allie might actually be more like Fabian and Gideon than Molly, after all — all of whom Aunt Lucy had <em>also</em> invited, apparently unaware that Bella and de Mort were going to be there. Or possibly just not caring, honestly.</p><p>Aunt Lucy was still enough of a Black to think that they ought to all be able to put their silly little war aside for an evening to have cake and congratulate Bella on becoming Lady Black, and Aster on making it to the official age of majority without getting herself killed. But Molly and Bella had <em>never</em> gotten on — Bella had given her a rude nickname in Gobbledygook and everything — and the twins had joined the Aurors as well as Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix after leaving school four years ago. They might not know that de Mort was <em>actually the Dark Lord</em>, but they <em>definitely</em> knew that Bella and de Mort were somehow mixed up in the Death Eaters. So that was going to be...awkward. Especially if they stuck around for <em>Evans's</em> adoption. (Not that they were actually invited, Bella wasn't an <em>idiot</em>.)</p><p>Pretty much everyone else likely to be there would be Blacks and Rosiers. Not Walburga (or Orion) — she'd sent a letter explicitly informing Aster that she didn't give a shite about her being re-inherited, she was still no kin to them. And <em>hopefully</em> not Auntie Dru. She tended to avoid Black family gatherings, and Bella hadn't invited her, but Narcissa had, so there <em>was</em> an outside chance that she might show up to say something vaguely disapproving about Bella taking over as Lady Black. And Arcturus was still unconscious, of course.</p><p>Aunt Cassie and Aunt Andi — Walburga's sisters — might come, they both had kids about Bella's age and liked to catch up and gossip whenever they had an excuse. Cassiopeia was a Nott now, and Andromeda a Burke, so they didn't see each other all too often. And of course Nash and Danny and Electra, they were always up for a good party. Meissa and Delphi didn't like Bella, and were probably in Italy anyway. Actually, Delphi might be married now? All of Uncle Regor and Uncle Reggie's kids would probably come. That'd be good, it had been <em>ages</em> since Aster had seen Gemma. ...Maybe Cousin Julie? Her maternal grandmother had been a Black, and she'd married a Rosier a couple of years ago now. She'd also been in Bella's class at Hogwarts — if Bella hadn't invited her, Zee probably <em>had</em>, because they'd actually kind of been friends.</p><p>Whatever, probably not more than a couple dozen, all told. Anyone Zee had managed to get in touch with since Monday who hadn't already had plans for a Friday evening, likely weighted toward the younger, more fun side of the Family and their associates. There would be a big official Family Meeting with all the old boring people to acknowledge Bella as Lady Black after Arcturus woke up. Zee, of course, was doing the vast majority of the planning for both of these things, because Zee was the closest thing Bella had to a wife to do all the Society shite and take care of the seneschal-esque duties that would belong to the Lady or consort or some closely-related female relative of the Lord in most Houses. And also because Zee had been decorating offices and planning parties and designing costumes and shite for Bella since before they'd left school. She actually <em>liked</em> that sort of thing.</p><p>It certainly wouldn't be anything near the largest party Ancient House had ever seen, but enough people that whichever ballroom or garden Zee had designated as the Party Zone wouldn't feel empty. (Though she would have chosen said ballroom or garden with an eye to the number of guests, anyway. Whatever.) Too many adults and stuck-up arses like Reg and Evan to have good music, and Aster couldn't really dance at the moment anyway, but there would be enough charming, entertaining people and alcohol that they probably wouldn't be lacking in conversational topics. Ones that <em>wouldn't</em> lead to Fabian, Gideon, and Molly picking a fight with Bella, hopefully. Plus cake.</p><p>And if it ended up being totally lame, she could hold a <em>real</em> party <em>next</em> weekend, when she wasn't herself totally lame.</p><p>"How much farther?" Alice asked, interrupting Reggie's attempt to convince Evans to <em>not</em> make him treat her like any other muggleborn in front of Bella and de Mort. (She had decided that that was to be his punishment — not just tonight, but <em>until she informed him otherwise</em> — and so far it was <em>incredibly entertaining</em>, watching Reg try to swallow the instinct to kowtow to someone he <em>knew</em> had him by the balls.)</p><p>"A couple more minutes?" Aster hazarded a guess. Normally it didn't take <em>nearly</em> this long to walk to town, but she was still injured, and Violette, Snape, and Evans weren't nearly as athletic as the rest of them.</p><p>"And we're flooing from the Three Brooms, right?"</p><p>"Yes...?"</p><p>"D'you think Rosmerta would let me use the loo without buying anything? I didn't bring my purse..."</p><p>"Oh, for fuck's sake, Prewett, stop whinging and I'll buy you a butterbeer," Evan drawled.</p><p>"Rosier, if you want to take a girl out for a drink, there are better ways to ask her," Snape snarked. "Even <em>I</em> know that..."</p><p>Aster wasn't sure in the flickering wandlight, but she thought Evan's ears might've gone a bit pink. "Piss off, Snape."</p><p>"Aww, baby cousin fancies you, Prewett," Violette giggled. "Don't break his heart, now."</p><p>"Are you Snakes even allowed to fancy Hufflepuffs?" Alice snarked, which was rather weak, Aster thought, but <em>bantering</em> wasn't really Alice's <em>thing</em>.</p><p>"That's what makes it <em>exciting</em>," Evans intimated...loudly enough for everyone to hear.</p><p>Alice was going fairly red herself, now. "Oh, come on, Evans, you're going to make poor Prewett think he's only in it for the <em>naughtiness</em>," Violette needled her.</p><p>"Doubt it," Aster chimed in. "Alice knows she's plenty fanciable on her own merits. Especially when the girls wear muggle trousers for quidditch practice."</p><p>"Oh, shut up, Aster! That was a purely practical decision, we weren't—"</p><p>"Trying to show off exactly how nice your arse looks in those jeans?" She ducked Alice's weak attempt to smack her, because, "That was a compliment, damn it!"</p><p>"Are you trying to get in my knickers?" she asked, sounding absolutely shocked. Aster was laughing (trying not to laugh because <em>ow</em>) too hard to answer, so she immediately turned to everyone else. "Is Aster trying to get in my knickers?"</p><p>"Is my dear cousin ever <em>not</em> trying to get in <em>everyone's</em> knickers, Prewett?" Narcissa said, with a rather pitying, <em>how can you not know this</em> tone, which was...fair. Yeah, that was fair.</p><p>"Um, no offence, Black, but you know we're cousins, right?"</p><p>"Of course I know we're cousins. Ask Cissy whether that matters."</p><p>"You hit on— Ew, Black. Just ew."</p><p>"That wasn't what she was trying to imply," Evan informed the Hufflepuff.</p><p>"If you value your life, Rosier, you'll stop talking <em>right now</em>," Reggie warned him.</p><p>"Who's threatening me? <em>You</em>?" Evan laughed. (Reggie wasn't a poor duelist, but he really didn't like hurting people he liked...even if he was equally reluctant to admit that he actually liked them. Slytherins didn't have <em>friends</em>, see.)</p><p>"Of course not. Narcissa is more than capable of defending her own honour," Aster's brother shot back, not <em>quite</em> managing to make it sound as though he <em>hadn't</em> just tried to intercede on her behalf. "I'm just...warning you out of, ah..."</p><p>"Concern," Aster put in. "<em>Reg</em> fancies <em>you</em>, Evan. Poor Cissy's love is entirely unrequited." Cissy's retaliatory hex was a lot harder to dodge than Alice's half-hearted swipe. Aster actually lost her balance, tipping into Evans for a second. "Way to make it obvious, Cissy!"</p><p>"Oh, hush, you know Bella's planning on announcing their engagement tonight anyway," Evans chided her.</p><p>"I knew no such thing! Cissy! Reg! Have you been holding out on me?" There was really no point asking how <em>Evans</em> knew that, she and Bella had been exchanging letters pretty much constantly as Evans asked more questions about the technical aspects of the blood-adoption ritual, which Aster neither knew nor cared about.</p><p>"Er...what?"</p><p>"Narcissa and Regulus are being betrothed, because Bella doesn't give a shite about the scandal," Violette explained to the <em>very</em> confused Alice.</p><p>"How did <em>you</em> know if I didn't know?!"</p><p>"Well, <em>everyone</em> knows Bella doesn't care what Society thinks of your House," she giggled. "And <em>almost</em> everyone knows those two have been pretending not to be totally star-crossed for each other for <em>ages</em>. The rest of it I just found out too, don't get your knickers in a twist."</p><p>"But—"</p><p>"We're not <em>actually</em> cousins, Prewett," Narcissa snapped. "Do I <em>look</em> like a Black?"</p><p>"Well, I <em>guess</em>, but still..."</p><p>Wait, was she annoyed because everyone was going to know she fancied her cousin, or because everyone would be talking about her being a bastard? Before Aster could think of a suitably mocking way to ask, they reached the end of the tunnel, emerging from the (fake) outhouse behind the Hog's Head — which, no, there was no explanation for the existence of a non-functional outhouse when the Hog's Head had a perfectly serviceable head indoors, aside from Aberforth Dumbledore having a weird sense of humour — making a beeline for the tavern down the street before they could be trapped into a conversation about goat husbandry. (<em>Really</em> weird sense of humour. And this was coming from <em>Aster</em>.)</p><p>The party <em>had</em>, in fact, started without them, though Aster thought that might be for the best. It meant they got to skip the awkward part at the beginning of the party where the only people who <em>didn't</em> arrive fashionably late were the aunts you least cared to talk to, and it wasn't yet appropriate to be drunk, because <em>slow down, dear, the party's only just begun...</em></p><p>When they did finally meander out onto the terrace Zee had chosen for the event, they only had time to exchange pleasantries with the Prewett twins hovering awkwardly by the door (Molly had begged off, probably for the best) and Julie and Antony (Antonius Rosier, not to be confused with Antony "Tony" Rosier, who was four years younger and related to Zee...and quite possibly also here, somewhere, if he and Morgana were still in Britain — Aunt Cassie <em>was</em> his mother-in-law...), who had apparently volunteered to mix cocktails for everyone who couldn't think of anything more adventurous than gin and tonic when put on the spot (<em>Alice</em>), before the Main Event began. Such as it was.</p><p>Aster said <em>surprise me</em> and ended up sipping at a very tasty, very <em>green</em> concoction (mostly absinthe) as Zee tinged a glass to get their attention for de Mort, who said a few words congratulating Bella, and then Bella said a few words announcing Cissy and Reg now officially being betrothed ("Everybody drink!"), and congratulated Aster on not being dead ("Everybody drink!") before wishing her happy birthday and demanding she get her arse over to the table where Zee had laid out the official adoption forms she needed to sign with an almost sarcastic degree of formality.</p><p>Actually, probably not <em>almost</em> — this <em>was</em> Zee, she knew her audience. And her audience was far more interested in mocking Aster for <em>needing</em> to be adopted back onto the family tree ("How the fuck does someone get <em>disinherited</em> from <em>the House of Black?!</em>"), or making generally unfunny would-be jokes about Bella being <em>shockingly</em> young to have a child already <em>leaving</em> Hogwarts, or the odd off-colour mother-daughter incest joke — Aster didn't catch who suggested the guests ought to all clear out and let the Blacks get down to <em>celebrating</em> as a <em>family</em>, probably be at it all night, you know them...but she was leaning toward Evan — than they were in any silly legal formalities. Aster accordingly played it up a bit, but she was <em>also</em> hardly interested in taking several minutes longer than necessary to complete Ministry forms, so not <em>that</em> much.</p><p>Party time was a bit weird, Aster thought. Not in the same way time was weird as a dog, though there was a certain similarity, insofar as things, events, sort of smeared into one another. It was more in how she got caught up in one conversation and then another, laughing (still <em>ow</em>, but she'd long since ceased to really <em>care</em>) and flirting, and teasing Remus for never enjoying himself, losing herself in everyone else loosening up and being fun for once, and before she knew it it had been three hours and she was on her fourth drink, and people were starting to talk about going home or back to the school.</p><p>Which <em>was</em> according to plan. They weren't exactly going to do a major blood-magic adoption ritual in front of <em>literal Aurors</em>, after all, and it gave Evan a good excuse to get a minute with Alice, walking her back — Cissy and Reggie and Snape were staying here, so once Vi headed back up toward Ravenclaw they'd have almost five whole minutes of sneaking back down to the dungeons <em>alone</em> together. A gentleman would <em>obviously</em> see a lady to Hufflepuff, it was even on the way, and if she decided <em>not</em> to be a <em>lady</em>, well, far be it from Aster to say that Alice Prewett <em>really</em> needed to get laid, but.</p><p>Still, it was a little disappointing when things started winding down. If <em>Aster</em> had been running this show, this would be right about the time they started passing around the second round of miscellaneous muggle drugs, and things started getting <em>interesting</em>. But she wasn't. They'd gotten a bit too loud for the tinking of a glass to be heard over the crowd, so Zee hopped up on a chair to shout them down.</p><p>Someone gave a wolf-whistle as the chatter died away, becoming that one awkward guy shouting "Take it off, Zabini!" over a crowd that quite suddenly didn't require shouting to be heard over, to widespread laughter.</p><p>"I'm a married woman at the moment, Ambrose!" Her husband wasn't here though, and Aster wasn't the only one who thought it wouldn't make much difference if he were. "Hey, hey, that's enough!" she called over the slight up-tick in noise — teasing and propositions, mostly. "No, stop it— I'm trying to say something, damn it! Quiet down! Thank you! And thank you all for coming out tonight! I know it was rather short notice, but we do love to see you all. And before you head home, you know this wouldn't be a Black Family Event if there weren't blood and fire involved at some point — everyone please congratulate Bella on <em>not</em> stabbing anyone tonight—" She paused for laughter, a few dutiful congratulations, and Bella to flip her off. "But Aster, get over here and let's <em>actually</em> make this official!"</p><p>Aster giggled, threading her way over to the table Zee, Bella, and Thom had cleared of glasses and half-eaten plates of cake, right at the very edge of the terrace. They weren't actually doing a proper blood adoption for her — she and Bella were already practically identical, making Bella a parent to her by blood seemed kind of redundant. No, they were just summoning the Family Magic — which was probably already watching anyway, she thought she'd felt it moving among the party-goers a few times tonight — and calling on it to witness them claiming each other as mother and daughter, in a little ritual adapted from one often used to strengthen bonds between comrades-in-arms — what Aster had been referring to when she'd suggested that Bella should claim Zee as her sister-in-blood.</p><p>De Mort dimmed the light-globes enough to be suitably dramatic, conjuring a candle in the centre of the table. Aster raised an eyebrow at Bella. "I presume you brought a knife." <em>She</em> certainly hadn't — it was a <em>party</em>, and it wasn't like there weren't already enough sharp objects in this house to arm a bloody battalion or three. Well, okay, she <em>did</em> have one, a little silver potions knife, for the ritual with Evans later, but that had already been purified for use in <em>that</em> ritual, using it now would be...<em>gauche</em>. Not that that would actually stop <em>her</em>, but Evans would be put out with her <em>profaning the ritual equipment</em>. Aster didn't want to ruin her special night.</p><p>"Not for this," she said, grinning and holding her left hand out, palm turned up.</p><p>Aster did the same, allowing her to trace a fingertip softly over her skin, paralleling a scar which no longer existed — the one from the night of Aster's first Yule ritual, from Bella slitting her wrists to establish a sympathetic bond between them, calling the Dark to burn the two of them alive and maybe save Aster's soul. A deep cut opened in its wake, blood welling to the surface immediately, though it declined to fall, the slightest pressure and tingle of magic holding it back. A quick glance showed de Mort glaring imperiously at the wound, as though <em>daring</em> physics and biology to ruin this ritual by bleeding before it was called for. It was all Aster could do not to laugh at his expression as she mirrored the motion. Her contact cutting charm wasn't as good as Bella's, of course — she used little wandless charms like this to create fire far more often than direct physical force — but it was good enough for this.</p><p><em>Three, two, one</em>, Bella mouthed, and then, in unison, they made the invocation. "We stand beneath the stars, calling out to the space between them, to the Darkness and the spirits of our ancestors — come to us and bear witness!" The candle lit, indicating the presence of the Family Magic for everyone who <em>couldn't</em> feel it, a blue lick of dark anti-fire, drawing light and warmth into itself, making the space around them seem darker even as it illuminated their faces for the several dozen human witnesses, watching with what felt like bated breath.</p><p>Bella smirked at her as they locked their fingers around each other's forearms, pressing the wounds together. It was largely a symbolic act, it was hardly as though there was much <em>actual</em> exchange of blood, but that was what ritual magic <em>was</em>, symbolism. Even if the blood-brother ritual hadn't called for it, it echoed that night nearly ten years ago, lending more weight to it. Reminding Magic that Bella had once put her <em>soul</em> on the line for Aster. That they had once been all but one person, that Aster owed her life to Bella's. She didn't put much stock in Arcturus's claim that Bella had twisted her soul to echo her own — her soul had <em>already</em> echoed Bella's pretty fucking closely. But it was true that in a very real way, Aster had been reborn that night.</p><p>"Under open sky, before our family and allies, before the spirit of our House and the Dark Itself, I claim you, Bellatrix Asteria, my daughter." She paused as though to let it sink in, just for a moment. "By blood, by magic, by my choice and yours, let us be known as mother and child. Bound by affection and trust, by loyalty and love, I give you my guidance, my protection, and a place in the family which is now yours as it is mine, until death and beyond." Another brief pause, this one probably just for effect. It wasn't as though Aster wasn't <em>already</em> part of the Family. "As it is witnessed, so shall it be, the bond between us unassailable, and recognised by all. Twice and thrice sworn, before Magic, our kinsmen, and the stars."</p><p>
  <em>Right. No going back now...</em>
</p><p>"Under open sky, before our family and allies, before the spirit of our House and the Dark Itself, I claim you, Bellatrix Druella, my mother." <em>Fuck, that's weird...</em> Not the magic intensifying around them, she'd kind of expected <em>that</em>, but the idea of <em>Bella</em>, as a <em>parent</em>. "By blood, by magic, by my choice and yours, let us be known as mother and child. I accept your guidance, your protection, and the place you offer." Guidance, protection, and a position in the social fabric of Britain — not just Society, but in general — kind of seemed like an adoptee would be getting a lot more out of this sort of thing than their parent or the House, but as she'd explained to Evans there were a lot of unspecified responsibilities which went along with becoming a Black. Personally, Aster thought the next line, "I accept your family as my own, and so shall I act, a dutiful daughter of the House of Black unto my final breath," more than balanced out the advantages an adoption into the House granted. "Bound by trust and affection, by love and loyalty, as it is witnessed, so shall it be, unassailable and recognised by all. Twice and thrice sworn, before Magic, our kinsmen, and the stars."</p><p>A drop of comingled blood fell into the icy flame, as the sense of magic <em>paying attention</em> to them grew even sharper and the witnesses seemed to hold their collective breath. (Most everyone here was far too upstanding to see anyone do anything like this on a regular basis. The more distantly related Blacks would have been raised with Yule, but that was <em>Yule</em> — just <em>imagine</em>, doing <em>ritual blood magic</em> so <em>casually</em> — almost <em>publicly!</em> My <em>goodness</em>, how <em>daring!</em> How <em>scandalous!</em>) A second drop was followed quickly by a third, and then the flame licked upward, coiling around their still-clasped hands, abandoning the candle entirely to sink into their skin. Aster tried not to wince at the darkness of the magic. That was going to leave a mark, she thought.</p><p>De Mort brought the lights back up slightly. Not entirely, but enough to make Bella's eyes sparkle, grinning at her with pride and amusement...</p><p><em>Now, kiss,</em> de Mort whispered at the back of her mind, his own amusement equally obvious.</p><p>Right. Yes. The kiss of homage. Aster had just gotten distracted, because, well. Because Bella was very pretty, mostly. And also this moment felt a little surreal. And yes, she knew how silly it was to be distracted <em>from kissing someone</em> by the fact that they're really pretty and you kind of want to kiss them, de Mort didn't need to point that out, thanks very much. It wasn't supposed to be <em>that </em>kind of kiss, just a chaste brush of lips in recognition of their new relationship.</p><p>Of course, just because it wasn't <em>supposed</em> to be that kind of kiss didn't mean it didn't <em>end up</em> being that kind of kiss. In Aster's defence, she was slightly drunk and Bella smelled nice and tasted like chocolate spice cake, and totally went along with it rather than pulling away when Aster kind of forgot exactly what they were doing here and leaned into her, deepening the kiss into something not really chaste at all, which might be more properly referred to as a snog.</p><p>Bella, Aster noted tipsily, was surprisingly good at kissing. Warm and soft and (unsurprisingly) assertive, cold fingers slipping around the back of her neck, threading into her hair as Aster's free hand instinctively pulled them closer together, wrapping around Bella's waist, their still-clasped left forearms trapped between them, preventing Aster from just melting into her.</p><p><em>Mira's going to get jealous</em>, Lord Sparklebum interrupted, breaking the moment. When Aster pulled back and opened her eyes, he was leaning against the balustrade that defined the edge of the terrace with Evans (slightly exasperated and not the <em>least</em> bit surprised) and Snape (trying not to look guilty for enjoying the sight), smirking in a very un-snake-like, might be considering a threesome or an erotic photography session or something way, which was <em>not happening</em> — damn it<em>, Aster, your brain sometimes...</em> Zee, far from being jealous, was wearing a very similar expression, with a slightly rawer, <em>I want to be part of this</em> edge to it.</p><p><em>That would be the jealousy</em>.</p><p><em>Piss off, de Mort</em>, Aster thought at him, though she was a bit too content at the moment to really care whether he did or not. She also decidedly didn't care about the spike in giggles and joking and general amusement between their table and the house because <em>House of Black, what did you expect?</em></p><p>Zee, after a moment, recovered sufficiently to take the party back in hand. "Obviously, it's also not a Black Family Event until we have cousins putting on a floor show," she announced, an edge of laughter inviting the rest of them to join in.</p><p>Bella clicked her tongue in mock disapproval. "Pay attention, Zee — Aster's my <em>daughter</em> now."</p><p>"Oh, I stand corrected, that makes snogging her <em>far</em> less improper. Carry on." Any response Bella or Aster might have made — not that Bella seemed to have a come-back any more than Aster did — was drowned out by laughter, a few invitations to help them make the whole thing even <em>less</em> 'improper', and a few very clear, very loud declarations that certain people (presumably the most boring ones, like Remus and Aunt Caroline) were leaving before this whole party turned into an orgy.</p><p>It didn't, of course. Aster was fairly certain that de Mort was choreographing its dissolution, subconsciously urging people to get the fuck out so they could get on with the programme. There were a few final toasts, and perhaps half an hour where people circulated, offering their farewells to Bella and Zee, a few more personal words of congratulation for Aster and (from those who'd noted the announcement in the Prophet officially naming him as Bella's consort) de Mort. Presumably Cissy and Reg would have gotten a few as well, but they seemed to have <em>mysteriously disappeared</em> at some point during the course of the party. A flurry of shaken hands and kissed cheeks and then, seemingly suddenly — well before midnight — everyone who <em>wasn't</em> invited to the <em>latter</em> half of the celebration had gone.</p><p>Evans's adoption was to be a much more <em>intimate</em> affair, for the House of Black and its closest associates only. And Snape, because no one in their right mind would suggest to Evans that he didn't have a right to witness her adoption, and Remus, because he was Evans's friend too, and staying here anyway, and in any case was hardly in a position to report anyone to the Aurors for conducting or participating in blood-alchemy rituals.</p><p>Zee was slated to be tied to Bella as a co-parent to Evans and Aster herself before the end of the night, and de Mort as her consort (officially). They, along with Cissy and Reggie (when they eventually found their way back from Cissy's bedroom, or wherever they'd been), rounded out the attendees, the nine of them led by Bella parading out to a twisted copse of yew trees which might have been a circle when the oldest foundations of Ancient House were laid, but which had become so overgrown in the intervening centuries that it was practically impossible to tell where one tree ended and the next began. The elves, over the past eighty or ninety years, had pruned and shaped it to form a sort of natural, not-quite-house-like structure, a relic of Pollux and Castor's childhood here — Aster's grandfather and great-uncle used to use it as a play-castle when they were children. Of course, they were long dead now, killed in Grindelwald's War and an unfortunate run-in with a quintaped respectively, but it was a thing elves did, taking a place that someone especially loved and keeping it up as a memorial to them, long after they were gone.</p><p>There were all sorts of little places like this across the Black properties, spots that one child or another had made their own (often with extensive help from the elves) and then abandoned, only to be rediscovered decades or centuries later by a grandchild or great-grandchild, shared with their siblings and cousins (but not parents, <em>obviously</em>), holding a secret sort of specialiness simply because they were both magnificent and forgotten. Aster, when she was little — already cursed by Orion, but not yet at Hogwarts — used to spend hours sneaking around looking for good hiding spots to avoid Walburga, imagining that one of these (not so very) secret, hidden spots might secretly house a portal to another world; that she might wander into a once-cultivated copse or crumbling stone circle or through an ancient arch — all that remained of a long-collapsed bridge over a now-dry stream — and find herself in an alternate universe when she wandered out again.</p><p>Andromeda (the middle sister both Bella and Cissy avoided talking about after she ran away with a muggleborn the summer before Aster started school) had shown Aster, Reggie, and Narcissa this spot when they were tiny, but Aster hadn't often come here. It was no good having a secret hidden place all to yourself if your annoying cousin and little brother knew about it too.</p><p>It was exactly as she remembered it, though — ducking and wriggling through an opening just large enough for an eight-year-old or an elf to edge through easily to find oneself in an irregular, vaguely oblong 'room' (a bit close for all nine of them), a rough fire-pit at the centre of it, tangled branches blocking out patches of the sky and casting ominous shadows as lights moved on the other side of the 'walls'. Zee cursing about her hair getting stuck coming through the 'door' and de Mort being all smug about how, <em>well you really should learn to shadow-walk, shouldn't you?</em> detracted from the atmosphere, a bit. Enough to make the ceremony of the whole thing seem a bit silly and pretentious.</p><p>This was why Aster made a shite ritualist. She just couldn't take the whole thing <em>super seriously</em> like Evans clearly was, an awed little smile on her face even as Bella faffed about with the fire-pit, shifting its stones to one end of the 'room' to give them a bit more space, and Zee conjured light globes and stools because, <em>oh, for fuck's sake, Thom, I'm not being </em>disrespectful to the womb of the Earth<em>, it's </em>dark<em>, and I'm not going to </em>sit <em>on the </em>ground<em>! There could be </em>insects<em>! And what the hell are you even talking about, we're not even underground!</em> (De Mort also took everything too seriously, saying shite like <em>womb of the Earth</em> with a straight face.)</p><p>"It's fine, Thom," Bella assured the pouting, snake-faced man, no longer maintaining his glamours because the only people here to be shocked by his appearance were Snape and Moony, and it wasn't like it was <em>sunny</em>. (Though his general sparkliness might have been why he objected to Zee's lights.) Either that or glamours were as offensive to the womb of the Earth as chairs. (That actually sounded kind of plausible; she dismissed the magic-filtering charm on her eyes, just in case.) "He <em>is</em> right about the lights, though," she told Zee, lighting a dozen or so candles Aster hadn't noticed perched on gnarls and twists in the branches of the 'walls' with a flick of her wand, and killing the too-bright globes.</p><p>It took a moment for Aster's eyes to adjust to both the sudden reduction in light and the fog of magic, which remained even when she closed her eyes entirely. She 'watched' with magic more than sight as the participants and witnesses rearranged themselves. Technically, Aster was a participant, but she wouldn't be needed for a few minutes yet — Bella was going to designate Cissy and Reg as her heirs first — so she found herself shuffled off to line the walls with the rest of them, give her cousins a bit of elbow room.</p><p>Next to Remus, who was so stiff and uncomfortable it was almost contagious. "Alright, Remy?" she said, bumping his arm with her shoulder (tall bastard).</p><p>"<em>No</em>, Sir– Aster! I am <em>not</em> all— You just called <em>Bellatrix</em> your <em>mum!</em>"</p><p>"I did, yes."</p><p>"And– And— With the <em>blood</em>, and the <em>snogging</em>, and— Did you have to <em>snog</em> her?! What were you <em>thinking?</em>"</p><p>"Reflex-snog, mate, didn't really think about it at all."</p><p>Not that she wouldn't have done it if she <em>had</em> had the presence of mind to make a conscious decision, there. In which case, the thought process would <em>probably</em> have been limited to: Would I like to snog one of the sexiest witches I know, who I've admired and fantasised about pretty much my entire life, and who just <em>very publicly</em> claimed me as her daughter, as in declared before Magic that she accepts me and cares about me and wants me in her life? What kind of bloody <em>stupid</em> question is <em>that</em>? Of <em>course</em> I'd like to snog her — very much so, in fact!</p><p>Remus barely paused long enough for her to respond. "And you told me he's a snake, but <em>he's actually</em>, you know..." he hissed, maybe even quietly enough that de Mort hadn't heard.</p><p>"Snakey, yes."</p><p>"And– And Lily's going to— Severus, you can't— They—"</p><p>"Can't <em>what</em>, Lupin?" Snape drawled (quietly) on Remy's other side. "Want her to be <em>happy</em>?"</p><p>Remy's voice dropped even lower. "Want her to get mixed up with <em>them!</em>"</p><p>Given that Evans and de Mort were standing together at the other 'end' of the 'room' being <em>very serious ritualists</em> together, Aster thought that ship had already sailed.</p><p>Bella interrupted, before Snape was forced to come up with a response (which would probably just be, <em>I want her to be happy, Lupin</em>, anyway). "Quiet over there in the peanut gallery! Narcissa! Regulus!" She beckoned them forward, holding out her hands for theirs.</p><p>Narcissa looked like a princess. Of course, Narcissa <em>always</em> kind of looked like a princess, but she'd dressed up for tonight especially — all silver and white and hints of palest blue; sapphire ornaments glinting in the elaborately pinned curls and plaits of her silver-charmed hair; her skin had been charmed pale and flawless, doll-like, frozen perfection; her eyes, still their natural deep blue, were almost shockingly dark in comparison, the only part of her that looked <em>alive</em>. Well, that and her magic, tracing her skin in ethereal not-light, making her <em>glow</em> in Aster's Sight. Like the Light Princess of the Sidhe Court of the Moon or an ice sculpture come to life, or maybe a star in human form — beautiful and strange; cold and calculating and distant. The effect was ruined only by the fact that she couldn't <em>quite</em> keep a straight face. After Bella had announced their betrothal (before they'd <em>mysteriously disappeared</em>), her eyes kept creeping over to Reggie, her fingers into his hand, and a slightly-disbelieving smile onto her face.</p><p>He was every bit as obviously besotted with her, and every bit as stunned about the sudden announcement of their engagement. Aster <em>presumed</em> Bella had asked him whether he wanted to, but even if she hadn't he clearly approved, happier and prouder than Aster had ever seen him, standing beside their cousin, the night to her star. His midnight blue robes, she noted with amusement, had been cut to make his shoulders seem a bit wider than they actually were, and of course he was wearing another of those bloody stupid cravats, this one edged with silver lace. (She'd noticed <em>that</em> on the way here, but not the robes under his cloak.) The candlelight made him seem positively ruddy in comparison to Narcissa's charmed paleness, the sharpness of his cheekbones and the hollows of his eyes highlighted by shadows, a study in contrasts rather than the almost imperceptible subtleties defining Cissy's face. Aster suspected that Narcissa had been intentionally trying to make them look as little like close cousins as possible, drawing attention to the most distinctive differences in their appearances while still signalling that they belonged together — complemented each other, like.</p><p>Bella, by contrast, didn't seem to be sending much of a message with her appearance at all. She actually looked surprisingly <em>mundane</em> tonight. Physically, at least. Hair held back with little silver and garnet pins, rather than plaited into an elaborate crown, solid black hose and a tightly-fitted overrobe. That had a few little silver details here and there and was cut asymmetrically, with the back significantly longer than the front, which was barely tunic-length, and the blouse beneath it, which she'd worn without the overrobe for most of the evening, was sleeveless and lacy down the middle, the frills spilling out of the deep-cut neckline of the overrobe. Generally speaking, though, it was relatively unobtrusive, no elaboration and very little ornamentation, and no jewelry beyond the hairpins and her communication mirror-locket. As soon as Aster took the charm off her eyes, though, she realised exactly why Bella had dressed so simply. The Family Magic was dancing with her, playing around her hair and fingers, bright not-light drawn most strongly to the runes in her skin and the protective enchantments worked into her overrobe, but surrounding her in general less densely, a field of patterns and textures which swirled around her and <em>through</em> her every time she took a breath or made the slightest gesture — somehow simultaneously sharp and amorphously fluid, it was absolutely <em>mesmerising</em>, like a dress made entirely of sequins or fringe. Aster could barely look away.</p><p>Granted, there were probably only a handful of people at the party who were capable of seeing her this way, but that would hardly matter to Bella. The idea of trying to improve on the beauty of magic putting on a show like this of its own accord with metal and sparkly rocks and clever use of cloth and thread seemed <em>entirely</em> absurd.</p><p>When Cissy and Reg took Bella's hands, the magic swirled around <em>them</em>, too, making its way up their arms and slowly engulfing them as Bella spoke — in Welsh, because <em>tradition</em>. "<em>Recognise them, Magic.</em>" Huh, Aster <em>had</em> wondered how the Family Magic was meant to be directly addressed... Apparently exactly the same as <em>Magic Itself</em>. "<em>She is Narcissa Zaniah, your child in magic and spirit, even if not in blood. He is Regulus Arcturus, trueborn child of the House, and the heir our former lord would have chosen. They are blood of my blood, and soon to be bound in body and soul. They will be my chosen successors, a lord and lady to lead the House in partnership as equals, to continue the promise of eternity, and when the time comes to support you together in my stead, do you find them acceptable.</em>"</p><p>Translation: <em>Reggie isn't fit to lead the House, and Cissy isn't fit to support the Family Magic. You get both or neither. Also, there aren't a whole lot of options available, so take that into consideration.</em> That would be the <em>continue the promise of eternity</em> part — they were pretty much the only Blacks left who were likely to have children to carry on the name. Or rather, the only Blacks left who considered carrying on the name their <em>absolute first priority</em>. (Though Aster was fairly certain Bella's birth-control curse wouldn't wear off Cissy until her birthday, which wasn't until the summer. So while <em>mysteriously disappearing</em> did demonstrate a certain degree of initiative, it was, at the moment, really just practice-boning.)</p><p>Aster probably <em>could</em> lead the House — she <em>had</em> been trained to, and she suspected that if she ever <em>did</em> have children they'd be bastards, and therefore Blacks by default — but... Well, she really had no interest in settling down and running a House any more than Bella did. It did sting slightly that Bella had never really <em>considered</em> pointing the Family Magic to her, but Aster didn't have a great relationship with the Family Magic — forgiven or not, her magic was still too light for it to easily communicate with her, hence its possessing Bella to do so — so she wasn't really <em>surprised</em>. Granted, she doubted that the Family Magic would be able to do...whatever it was doing with Bella right now with Reggie — he was well above average in terms of his channelling ability, but he wasn't a sorcerer or a black mage or even just as intuitively willing to work <em>with</em> Magic as Aster — it probably wouldn't be very happy with her fobbing it off onto a clearly inferior Head of House. But he was <em>much</em> more interested in history and legal precedence and so on, and Cissy was by far the best politician out of the four of them. Aster wouldn't be <em>entirely</em> surprised if Bella just delegated all the boring legal Head of House and Wizengamot shite and baby-making to them and kept being the magical heart of the House pretty much forever.</p><p>Aster...wasn't really sure where she fit in that picture. Wherever Evans ended up, obviously, she just didn't know where that would be. Probably in New Avalon, if it ever got off the ground, but talking to her... She <em>knew</em> the shite Bella and de Mort did didn't bother Evans the same way it did her. Maybe it was doing human sacrifice rituals every year, but Aster couldn't quite seem to <em>not</em> see other people and their lives as being fundamentally the same as herself and valuable simply for their own sake. (If they weren't, you might as well sacrifice a fucking acromantula or something else no one would miss.) But she also <em>knew</em> Evans didn't actually <em>approve</em> of that sort of thing, either. Killing people. Especially just for fun. <em>Persephone</em> didn't approve of that sort of thing. So Aster was <em>pretty sure</em> Evans intended to try to get Bella to focus more on shite like visiting the moon or building an island or <em>time travel</em> than antagonising the Aurors. She <em>definitely</em> approved of Aster's plan to try to get Dumbledore to see reason and at <em>least</em> get a ceasefire in place.</p><p>(They still hadn't had that talk yet. Aster suspected Dumbledore was waiting until she could be properly healed before he called her back up to his office, because he felt guilty that she'd gotten hurt fixing a problem that James and ultimately Dumbledore himself were responsible for. And she wasn't exactly keen on getting into an argument when she couldn't even pace properly. But Sunday. She could talk to him on Sunday. Maybe run her arguments past McKinnon tomorrow, first...)</p><p>If New Avalon <em>didn't</em> work out? ...Maybe she could talk Evans into becoming a travelling cursebreaker with her? Just seeing more of the world sounded nice. Or maybe she'd tour the Americas while Evans worked on a mastery at Miskatonic, or something. Whatever, not really important <em>now</em>. Point was, she was perfectly fine with <em>not</em> being tied to the House of Black. (She <em>had</em> kind of tried to get herself kicked out of it a couple of months ago and all...)</p><p>And the Family Magic was apparently, at least provisionally, okay with that, too. It must have agreed with Bella in some way — how it might have communicated that, Aster couldn't tell — because after a short pause, she nodded. "<em>Very well, then. Narcissa, Regulus, do you take on this responsibility, you must be prepared to uphold the duties of the Head of the House of Black in public and in private, in all matters magical and mundane, should you be so called upon."</em></p><p>There was a bit of discordance in their response, the unison off because one of them said <em>I</em> am prepared to do so, and one of them said <em>we</em>. Aster suspected that Reggie had said <em>I</em>, because Cissy glared at him.</p><p>Bella smirked slightly. "<em>You must be prepared to dedicate yourselves to the priority of ensuring the continuation of the House before all others.</em>"</p><p>This time, Reggie got with the program. "<em>We are prepared to do so</em>." (<em>Heh.</em> Of <em>course</em> they were...)</p><p>"<em>And of course, you must be prepared to support the Magic, providing a haven for it should I become unable to do so.</em>" So, basically if she died. Aster couldn't think of any other circumstances she <em>wouldn't</em> be able to support the Family Magic herself.</p><p>"<em>We are prepared to do so</em>."</p><p>"<em>Then the Magic and I are of an accord. I hereby designate you as my chosen successors.</em>" The Family Magic withdrew from them, returning to Bella for the most part, though Aster thought a part of it might have gone into strengthening Cissy and Reggie's bonds to the House, just in case.</p><p>"Wait. That's it?" Reggie asked, a hint of something disapproving and maybe a little disappointed in his tone. "When Pater– sorry, <em>Uncle</em> Arcturus talked about officially appointing me as his Heir, he made it sound like it was more...involved. <em>Ceremonious</em>."</p><p>"I probably <em>could</em> have drawn it out for another hour or so, but I really don't think we need to go through <em>all</em> your duties to the House, <em>individually</em>. Yes, Archie did make <em>me</em> agree to them all specifically, but I was <em>seven</em>. I assume he wanted to make sure I <em>really</em> understood what it <em>meant</em>, being his heir. Well, either that or he wanted my word I would continue to serve the House, and didn't want to wait until Lammas to make me renew my vows." She flicked her fingers dismissively, magic sparking at her fingertips. "Hardly matters, now. What <em>does</em> matter is you know what's expected of the Head of the House — I'll go over it with you both at some point just to make sure, but you <em>have</em> been learning these things all your lives — and the Family Magic has agreed to seek you out if I do something really fucking stupid and get myself killed, which, you know, not likely, but." She shrugged. "Next up?"</p><p>"I believe that would be Asphodel," de Mort said.</p><p>Evans practically skipped the three steps to Bella, far too excited to really understand what this process entailed. Yes, it was a big deal being adopted, she <em>should</em> be excited, but Evans was a bloody wimp. It wouldn't hurt her soul like the Dark had hurt Aster when it was turning her into a girl, and the adoption ritual drew on the magic and energy reserves of the adoptive mother too, so it shouldn't be nearly as exhausting, and while the changes to her <em>blood</em> would be just as thorough as Aster's, the changes in the expression of various traits wouldn't be, necessarily — changing sexes was <em>really</em> major — but it would still <em>hurt</em>.</p><p>It would probably hurt worse than anything that had ever happened to Evans before.</p><p>Aster had <em>tried</em> to explain that, but she couldn't bring herself to use any of the really bad pain curses on her so she'd have something to compare it to, so Evans had just brushed it off — "<em>It can't be </em>that <em>bad, Aster. Don't worry, I'll be fine!</em>"</p><p>"I'm ready!" she said, bouncing on her toes like a little kid.</p><p>Bella laughed at her. Remus didn't. "Lily— Are you sure about this, Lily?</p><p>Lily gave him a beatific smile. "Of course I'm <em>sure</em>, Remus. Why <em>wouldn't</em> I be?"</p><p>"Well, it's— It just seems like...fast? I mean, Aster said you only found out you were adopted a couple of weeks ago — by your parents, I mean, and—"</p><p>"What Lupin is attempting so incompetently to say is that this is out of character."</p><p>"Er. Yes. Thank you, Severus. It's— You've <em>changed</em>, Lily, and... Have you even talked to anyone about this?"</p><p>"Of course I have, Remy."</p><p>"Anyone <em>not</em> in this room? Er. Tree...thing?"</p><p>Her eyes narrowed. Apparently a little friendly concern was fine, but only if he didn't really mean it and was willing to just immediately concede that of course Evans was right. She ignored the question, because the answer was <em>no</em>, she hadn't. "I know what I'm getting into. And the only thing that's <em>changed</em> about me is that I'm not <em>pretending </em>anymore."</p><p>"Are you sure? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you and Aster have both lost your bloody minds! This <em>is</em> the same Bellatrix who kills little kids in nursery schools, yes? And the Dark Lord who's trying to take over Britain?"</p><p>"I'm not trying to take over Britain," de Mort corrected him, before Evans or Bella could respond. "Why would I <em>want</em> to rule this horrid cesspool of corruption and misery? Why does everyone <em>think</em> I want to rule this horrid cesspool of corruption and misery?"</p><p>Zee chuckled. "I imagine it's because most people have an absurdly difficult time imagining living in a society very different from the one in which they were raised."</p><p>"Well, <em>obviously</em>, but—"</p><p>"Can we maybe focus?" Evans interrupted. "Yes, Remy. Bellatrix is of the opinion that the idea of a war crime is very silly, and Thom would like Britain to acknowledge his organisation as an independent political entity, to which end they have been conducting a war against Magical Britain. And none of that <em>matters</em>, because they actually understand me. I don't have to pretend to be light around them, or that I'm <em>not</em> dedicated to my Lady — I <em>belong</em> with them."</p><p>"But—"</p><p>"Remy, mate, she's not going to change her mind."</p><p>"No, I'm not. And if you can't be happy for me, Remus, you can leave."</p><p>"Fine. Fine! I still think you've lost the plot, and this is a terrible decision, but fine, I'll shut up. Not like there's anyone else sane around here, so sure, I guess you do fit <em>right</em> in."</p><p>"That's the spirit!" de Mort said brightly, the tone contrasting oddly with his <em>snakiness</em>, as did his lipless smirk. "This <em>is</em> a blood alchemy ritual, though. Painful. Messy. You may want to leave anyway."</p><p>"I'm a <em>werewolf</em>, <em>Monsieur </em>Voleur. I'm <em>plenty</em> familiar with painful, messy transformation rituals, thanks very much."</p><p>De Mort held his hands up in mock surrender. "Don't say I didn't warn you, then."</p><p>"Bella. Aster. Can we <em>please</em> start the ritual?"</p><p>Bella nodded. Aster stepped forward to stand beside Evans. They'd gone over the ritual at least half a dozen times now. It should go fairly quickly and smoothly. She hoped. Emphasis on the smooth, with no more interruptions from Remus or de Mort or the fucking Dark showing up to meet Evans before they finished the thing. Well, de Mort probably wouldn't actually interrupt a ritual once it was already in progress. Remus and/or the Dark, though, very well might.</p><p>
  <em>Snape, if you're eavesdropping, it's your job to make sure Remus doesn't fuck anything up while I'm distracted.</em>
</p><p><em>He's not. I'll take care of it, </em>de Mort thought at her all amused, even though her expectation that any legilimens in the vicinity was always eavesdropping on everyone was based mostly on his behaviour. <em>I appreciate the irony of you simultaneously characterising me as a </em>snakey fucking weirdo<em>, and also expecting other people to act like me.</em></p><p><em>...Piss off, de Mort</em>, she thought back, with as much dignity as she could muster. <em>I have a ritual to initiate.</em></p><p>There were four roles in the Black Family adoption ritual — Mother, Child, Midwife, and Head of House — and it required at least three participants. Only a woman could serve as an adoptive parent, harkening back to the days when the House had been primarily matrilineal. There were elements of symbolic resonance in the idea of the bond between mother and child being inviolate, and females being the half of the species who actually did the work of <em>producing children</em>, but Aster was pretty sure the parent role in this ritual being the Mother was really more for historical reasons.</p><p>The Child role was fairly self-explanatory — the primary subject of the ritual. The Midwife (or "Father") wasn't really, in the traditional sense. They were normally closely related to the Mother and familiar with the Child — a sister or natural child or husband or consort or whatever — and stood as a sort of sponsor to the adoption along with the Mother. Their role in the ritual was largely peripheral, assisting in its implementation, but if it went wrong in some way, or the Mother and Child didn't have enough energy between them to pull through the transformation, they would sometimes be required to dump more power into the ritual. And of course the Head of the House had to be involved, formally bringing anyone into the Family, whether by adoption or marriage.</p><p>The Mother and Midwife had to be different people, but the Head of House could serve in either role, if they so chose. Obviously Bella would be fulfilling the role of Head of the House as well as that of the Mother. Aster was the Midwife which, among other things, meant that it was her job to get this show on the road.</p><p>The first actual element, of course, was invoking the Family Magic, but before that, even, the Child and Mother needed to disrobe. There were blood runes that would need to be drawn directly onto their skin, and the transformation tended to be, as de Mort had warned Remus, messy as well as painful. They were also doing a minor purification thing (just for the Child and the Mother, Aster was still allowed to be profane because she wasn't actually a subject of the ritual), because Evans was a Very Serious Ritualist, and that was What One Did before a major working.</p><p>"Let us begin," she crooked a finger at Evans, beckoning her closer and helping her off with her robe — another of Aster's, actually, because all of Evans's clothes had zippers or buttons or other annoying features that made them difficult to remove gracefully. This one was much simpler, the translucent golden overrobe laced loosely down the centre of the bodice, and the emerald under-robe was basically just a single large piece of fabric with a couple of ties that wrapped around a certain way to form a simple, ankle-length garment. Muggles would probably consider it a dress, albeit a rather slinky, form-fitting one. It was almost as easily removed as the overrobe, held in place as it was by a single knot. Aster took both pieces from her, hooking them on a convenient branch.</p><p>Bella's very fitted hose and blouse were held in place by dozens of tiny buttons, but they were also enchanted so she only had to unbutton <em>one</em> to undo them all, so she managed to strip almost as quickly. She joined Evans in kneeling in the centre of the space for Aster to recite a minor ritual banishing external influences over them. Which she did, with probably more pleasure than she ought to have done — the flash of light magic which burned through the space in response prompted Bella to pull a face at her. Still, it was over quickly.</p><p>Bella retreated a few steps, taking on the role of the Head of the House, leaving Aster and Evans to face her as petitioners, asking her (and the Family Magic) to accept Evans into the House.</p><p>"I speak as a child of the House of Black, as one who would be kin to the woman before me. Hear me, Magic, and witness!" Not that it wasn't <em>already</em> paying attention, but its presence strengthened, drawing on ambient energy — dark, of course, enough to make Aster at least as uncomfortable as the purification ritual had made Bella, focused on her specifically as it was, given that she was the one who had called it — and spreading to surround not only Bella but the entire room. Right, there wasn't actually a circle, aside from the natural one defined by the trees. Everyone else would be involved peripherally then, as Witnesses. Not that that was a problem, these things <em>used</em> to be witnessed by as much of the House as possible, back when they used to do adoptions <em>all the time</em>.</p><p>After calling the Family Magic, they had to establish Evans's willingness to become a member of the House, with all that entailed. "Lily Irene, would you, upon your magic, swear to put it at the disposal of the House of Black and your newfound kin?"</p><p>"I would." The magic began to focus a bit more on her, rather than just Aster, which was a bit of a relief.</p><p>"Would you swear, upon your life, to place the wellbeing of the House of Black before it, or that of any other individual?"</p><p>"I would." A grin crept across her face as she anticipated the next question. They hadn't discussed the specifics of the ritual before their last visit to Cokeworth, but Evans had been more than a little pleased with the timing of her impulsive dissolution of her relationship with her parents when she realised that she would have had to forsake them now regardless.</p><p>Not that giving the House primacy over her loyalty meant that she could never speak to them again, but since Evans had really only been keeping up her act with them out of some weird sense of duty, and this was her explicitly giving up her obligations to her natal House, it did kind of make sense, Aster guessed. "Would you swear upon your honor to place your duties to the House of Black and your newfound kin before all others, including the House of your birth and the family who raised you?"</p><p>"I would."</p><p>Runes were funny things. Their meaning was kind of like an incantation or a wand-movement. Arbitrary. They didn't really <em>inherently</em> mean anything, just, a lot of people believed they meant something, so Magic sort of just...agreed that they did. As far as Aster knew, the runes used in <em>this</em> ritual, and a handful of other Family rituals and some of the oldest wardstones at Ancient House, weren't used at all <em>outside</em> of the House. Which meant they <em>should</em> be less effective than <em>normal</em> runes with more widely-known and accepted meanings, but because they were only used in a few <em>very</em> specific contexts, they were actually much more precise in communicating the purpose of a given action and thereby shaping it...as long as they were used <em>in those contexts</em>. If she tried to use the shapes that defined <em>truth</em> and <em>reveal</em> in this ritual <em>outside</em> of a Family ritual, they probably wouldn't do much of anything at all.</p><p>Since she <em>was</em> using them in this ritual, <em>reveal</em> painted in Aster's blood over Evans's heart, and <em>truth</em> in the centre of her forehead, they served to tell the Family Magic to examine Evans's willingness to do as she'd said she would, to examine Evans's intentions and judge her worthiness as a candidate for adoption into the House. She <em>did</em> have to say the words, "Let the magic of the night and the space between the stars judge the truth of the intentions of this woman who would make herself kin to the Eternal House," to start the process, but the concepts and intent distilled into the meaning of those shapes over the past ten or twelve centuries actually defined it.</p><p>The Family Magic dove into Evans's soul, seeking out any hint of deception, any desire to harm the House. It wasn't gentle about it, either. There were really very few occasions which called for <em>gentleness</em> in the eyes of the House of Black — testing the character and resolve of a would-be adoptee, some as-yet-inferior person who believed themselves worthy of joining the Family, was <em>not</em> one of them.</p><p>Evans gasped, falling to her hands and knees, eyes clenched shut and fingers digging into the earthen floor, breathing far too quickly, as though trying not to scream. Aster bit her lip. It was supposed to be fairly quick, she thought. Not more than a minute or so. An aborted "<em>Li</em>—" drew her attention back to Snape, with a grim expression to match her own, and Remy, who was apparently frozen, somehow, his mouth still open. His limbs were immobilised halfway through taking a step toward the three of them, but even as Aster watched he stepped back into his place, assuming a very <em>parade rest</em> sort of posture — shoulders straighter than they ever were (Remus had a tendency to slouch, as though afraid to draw too much attention to himself), hands folded neatly in front of himself. He was glaring <em>furiously</em> at de Mort.</p><p>Had he...</p><p><em>I </em>did <em>tell you I'd take care of it, didn't I?</em></p><p><em>I thought you were going to tell Snape to use a body bind on him or something, not turn him into a fucking </em>puppet<em>,</em> <em>you sick freak.</em></p><p>
  <em>This is less disruptive to the ritual. On the subject of which, are you not supposed to be attending to Asphodel?</em>
</p><p>Oh, the testing <em>was</em> over, wasn't it. Evans <em>had</em> managed not to scream, but there were tears glistening on her cheeks, and she seemed a bit too unsteady to make it back to her feet on her own. Aster offered her a hand, raising an eyebrow in silent question. Evans nodded firmly, which she took to mean <em>keep going</em>.</p><p>Alright, then. "Magic has judged the candidate's intentions to be true. I, Bellatrix Asteria, First Daughter of the House, do stand beside the candidate as a worthy kinswoman."</p><p>Bella actually looked surprised at that — not Evans passing the test, Aster claiming to be the First Daughter of the House. She was pretty sure she was within her rights to do so, though. Bella was the Head of the House now, she couldn't exactly be the ultimate authority figure in the Family <em>and also</em> the person who was meant to tell adult authorities to piss off when necessary. And Narcissa, for all her eyes narrowed on the opposite end of the 'room', didn't <em>actually</em> want to take on the responsibility. Unlikely as it seemed that Bella would forget her duties to their few younger cousins, Cissy didn't have the moxie (or lack of self-preservation) to stand up to her if it ever actually became necessary. Besides, she'd be getting married to Reg in about a month, anyway.</p><p>After a long moment, Bella smirked and nodded. "Very well, then. I speak as a woman of the House of Black, as the one who would claim this child as my daughter. Hear me, Magic, and witness my claim. I offer guidance, fulfilling a mother's sacred duty to shape her daughter's future. I offer protection, as a mother needs must support her child against the dangers inherent in her life. I offer identity, family, and a place in this world, the bond between mother and child unassailable and recognised by all. In return, I would that my daughter trust in my guidance, repay protection with loyalty, and respect myself and the name which she is offered this night. As it is agreed, let it be so sworn," she declaimed, the full, un-paraphrased version of the vows she and Aster had used earlier.</p><p>Evans's response wasn't specified, though obviously she had to re-state the terms and swear to keep up her end of them. Since she knew the Mother's lines, she'd written and memorised her reciprocation ahead of time. "Trust for guidance; loyalty for protection; respect for identity and a place in this world. As my newfound mother does keep her word, so too shall I. This I vow before friends and family, before my Lady Persephone and Magic Itself, by the movements of the stars and the waters of the Styx. Twice and thrice-sworn, let it be so witnessed."</p><p>There was a ripple in the magic around them, almost entirely distracting from the way the Family Magic wove itself around Evans, binding her to Bella, a twisting, stomach-twisting rift of dark energy briefly appearing before them. Or rather, before Aster. She expected that to almost everyone, it looked like the innocent-looking, freckle-faced embodiment of evil that was Angelos Black had stepped out of nowhere between Zee and de Mort to tuck herself under de Mort's arm. "Ooh, swearing on the Styx, are we? How dramatic!"</p><p>Her original draft was <em>much</em> longer and even more dramatic. Aster was glad she'd convinced her to cut it down. Swearing on the Styx was still a bit over-the-top, but for a dedicant of Persephone it did make sense. Especially since Bella was also a dedicant of Eris. That whole pantheon had a thing about the mythological border-river.</p><p>"Hi, Thom."</p><p>"Angel. You're late," de Mort said, all dry and disapproving, as though he couldn't feel the tendrils of dangerous, dark energy wrapping themselves around him. He <em>had</em> to be able to, though, he let his own aura expand to envelope her as well, like a weird, evil, magic hug. "And you're interrupting."</p><p>She grinned up at him. "And you still haven't come up with a fate worse than death for me," she said, as though that was...somehow related? "Mimi, love, you look <em>delicious</em>, as always."</p><p>Zee leaned over to kiss the terrifying creature on the forehead like a favoured younger sibling. "Angie, darling, you haven't aged a day."</p><p>The immortal Dark giggled. "Well, of <em>course</em> not. Aging is just <em>so</em>...<em>passé</em>. And <em>Bella</em>, my pet! You're all <em>sparkly!</em>"</p><p>Angelos was...kind of the opposite of sparkly. Not that her magic, or the magic of the Dark that was possessing her, was <em>entirely</em> different from the tone of Bella's, but where the energy surrounding Bella was glittering and playful and celebratory, the power curling off the avatar of the Dark was more...sinuous. Smoke-like and <em>dangerous</em>. And terrifying. Almost overwhelmingly so. If Aster had been able to see her aura when they first met, she thought she might have run screaming from the prospect of letting that thing anywhere <em>near</em> her soul, mad or not. As it was <em>now</em>, she simply froze, desperately wishing she weren't right in the middle of the room and trying not to draw its attention. Cissy, Reg, Remy, and Snape appeared to be on the same page, lurking at the edges of the room variously wide-eyed and overly-still.</p><p>Angel twiddled her fingers at her, which Aster had <em>no</em> response to, given that running screaming into the night wasn't really an option. She'd have to wriggle out of the tree-fort first, not exactly <em>swift</em>.</p><p><em>She is terrifying, I'll grant you,</em> de Mort thought at her, giving the top of the head of the demonic creature snuggled up to him what might have been the reptile equivalent of an exasperated look. <em>And she finds your obvious fear of her incredibly amusing. But she has no intention of hurting you tonight.</em></p><p>"Yes, I finally stripped the Family Magic from old Archie. It's delighted, as I'm sure you can tell." Evans cleared her throat pointedly, drawing Bella's attention back to her. "Ah, yes. This is Asphodel, I know you're aware of her. Asphodel, this is Angel — if you recall I mentioned she might drop by at some point."</p><p>"We were <em>in the middle of something</em>," she hissed back even <em>more</em> pointedly, glaring furiously at the Dark for interrupting.</p><p>"Yes, yes, adopting you into the House. That's why I'm here," she grinned. "Witnessing. As family. And/or Magic. Go on, you're just about to get to the fun part."</p><p>The horribly painful blood magic part, she meant.</p><p>Bella grinned at the still-obviously-annoyed Evans. "As you become my daughter, Lily Irene, you also become a daughter of the House of Black. Would you swear homage to it, submitting yourself to its protection and acknowledging the authority of its Lord?"</p><p>"I would."</p><p>"Would you swear loyalty, placing the honour and wellbeing of the House of Black above all others?"</p><p>"I would."</p><p>"Would you swear fealty, bound by blood to the will of the House and the authority of its Lord?"</p><p>"I would," Evans repeated a third time, the annoyance fading from her voice as they fell back into the ritual pattern.</p><p>"Then do so."</p><p>This vow was a formal, set thing. Evans had memorised it ahead of time, of course. She knelt, raising her hands in prayer-like supplication. Bella clasped them between her own. "I swear before magic, my would-be kinsmen, and the stars to be true and faithful to the House of Black; to support the Family as asked of me; and never, by word or deed, do anything to harm the wellbeing of the House; and that the House shall hold my highest loyalty. I swear unto the House of Black my wand, my honor, and my will, that I might be recognized as a full member of the House, with all the rights and responsibilities entailed therein."</p><p>"As Lady Black, I accept your vow, Daughter. Rise and seal it, as it is so sworn."</p><p>Evans did — <em>her</em> kiss of homage was <em>much</em> more chaste than Aster's, a quick brush of lips against lips. The Family Magic washed over her again, recognising her as a daughter of the House. She wasn't really a part of it yet, though. Not <em>really</em>.</p><p>Bella grinned. "So shall it be. And as you would be my daughter and a daughter of the House in mind and magic, so must you be also in body. Asteria?"</p><p>She had to re-open the cut she'd used to paint the runes for the testing earlier. It stung, but that was nothing compared to the pain Evans was about to experience. Aster circled around to trace a series of runes down her spine, <em>loyalty </em>and <em>fidelity</em>, <em>belonging </em>and <em>trust</em>, <em>mutual support</em> and <em>reciprocity</em>, the chain completed by a symbol whose meaning Aster only knew as <em>House of Black</em>. Maybe <em>ours</em>, or something like that. Maybe <em>family</em>, in a broader sense.</p><p>"By the blood of she who would be your sister and the beating of your heart, I bind you in brotherhood to the House of Black."</p><p>The Family Magic lashed out, forming a bond between the three of them with an almost-tangible <em>snap</em>, more distantly to Cissy, Reg, and Angelos, and more faintly yet, an awareness stretching beyond the immediate space to include all the members of the Family not present here tonight.</p><p>She offered the little silver knife to Bella, who grinned, quickly carving the <em>life</em> rune just above the dark curls of her pubic hair, then painting <em>child</em> over Evans's navel and <em>becoming</em> over her heart. A sort of umbilical of magic spun itself into being between them, binding their lives as one in much the same way as Aster had thought to bind herself to Morgen to support the old werewolf, even as Bella murmured, "By the blood of she who would be your mother and the magic in your bones, I bind you in body to the Family."</p><p>This was immediately followed by another rune on Evans's forehead, an elaboration of the <em>truth</em> symbol which Aster had drawn ages ago, re-shaping it to mean <em>being</em> — <em>magic</em> or <em>soul</em>. <em>What I am.</em> "By the blood of she who would be your matriarch and the fire in your soul, I bind you in magic to the Family."</p><p>The Family Magic was already fairly well focused on Evans, but it took hold even more deeply in anticipation of the incipient transformation.</p><p>"You know your line," Bella said, smirking broadly.</p><p>Evans did. She hesitated slightly, there was an edge of nervousness in her tone suggesting she actually <em>had</em> heard some of Aster's comments about how badly this would hurt, but after a second, she said it. "Body, magic, and soul, I bind myself to the House of Black."</p><p>The runes flared to life, attuning Evans's magic to that of the House — hardly as dramatic a transformation as attuning herself to the dark or the light, but noticeable. To Aster and <em>definitely</em> to Evans. She gasped as she felt the Family Magic surrounding and suffusing her begin to resonate properly.</p><p>"Again," Bella prompted her.</p><p>There were three repetitions of the binding dedication. The first brought her into alignment with the Family Magic, the second integrated the Mother's blood into the Child, and the third established a proper connection between the new member of the House and the Family Magic, bringing them into the blood wards and consequently making them <em>part of it</em> — part of <em>them</em>.</p><p>The second step was the hardest, but there was no going back at this point. Evans's face grew grim, her posture stiff, as though bracing for impact (which would do absolutely <em>nothing</em> to help her weather the transformation). "Body, magic, and soul, I bind myself to the House of Black."</p><p>For a long second, it was as though nothing happened. But then, just as Evans began to relax, the magic struck.</p><p>She gasped involuntarily, stiffening in pain, eyes squeezed tight against it, before falling to her knees and then to the ground, shivering and twitching. Her breathing grew too fast, her own magic flaring erratically as that of the Family surrounded her, wrapping her in a sort of cocoon of raw energy, delving into her body and <em>changing</em> it.</p><p>Aster had kind of thought that this wasn't going to be that big a deal, that the changes would be relatively minor, but she hadn't taken into account Evans being far too sturdily built for a daughter of the House of Black. Even if her internal organs didn't have to be re-structured, she was still shrinking, her bone-structure becoming more delicate, and that affected practically everything. Flesh seemed to melt and twist as bones shifted and shrank beneath them, blood and that same weird, ectoplasm-esque goo that Aster had woken up in a puddle of after her own transformation seeping out of every orifice, including her <em>eyes</em> — that couldn't possibly be good, could it? More and more magic was drawn through Bella (who was also lying on the ground breathing too fast, but looked like she was about to come, rather than as though she was in excruciating pain) into the process, not unlike whatever had happened when she took on the role of the Head of the House, the connection between them glowing so brightly Aster would be shocked if it wasn't actually <em>visible</em>.</p><p>And it just <em>kept going</em>. Aster didn't know how long, but longer than she felt it should, certainly.</p><p>
  <em>Hey, de Mort, is this right?</em>
</p><p>He laughed at her, silently. <em>Oh, yes. Your own transformation took nearly an hour. This should only be a few more minutes, I think.</em></p><p>Evans's hair fell out, only to grow back in much darker. She seemed to almost dissolve before them, becoming nearly as gaunt as Aster as the puddle of whatever the hell that was spread around her. After a minute or so, her eyes snapped open, glowing brightly, still that same vibrant, killing curse green, and she started coughing and retching. Aster knelt quickly to tip her onto her side as she brought up yet more goo. Seriously, what the hell—</p><p>
  <em>It's a byproduct of shrinking, excess cells killed and purged.</em>
</p><p>Oh. <em>Ew</em>.</p><p>
  <em>You asked...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yeah, but now I know I'm kneeling in a puddle of dead Evans slime.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I repeat: you asked.</em>
</p><p>Aster had no response to that, and since Bella seemed to be coming around as well, which meant they were almost done, she didn't bother trying to think of one. The umbilical between the two of them snapped, the last of the energy dispersed. Bella's eyes fluttered open, an ecstatic grin plastered across her face as she turned to look at the two of them again.</p><p>"Third time pays for all, Daughter."</p><p>"I— Body, magic, and soul, I—" Evans cut herself off, coughing again. She seemed barely conscious.</p><p>"Come on, Evans," Aster whispered, pinching her in an effort to keep her awake. "You can do it..."</p><p>She <em>had</em> to do it. If she <em>stopped</em>, if she <em>failed</em>, <em>now</em>, she would die. She had to be folded into the blood wards so they could help her heal, help her pull through...</p><p>"Body, magic, and...soul, I...bind myself. To the House of Black."</p><p>
  <em>Yes! Good!</em>
</p><p>Magic, the Family Magic which had withdrawn slightly as the transformation waned, dove into her with renewed vigor, flooding through every inch of her body, reinforcing the bond between the blood which now flowed in her veins and the House as a whole. Aster could <em>feel</em> her, not only physically but in her <em>soul</em>, another flame set alight in the endless sea of the Dark, the Family Magic shifting as the web of interconnected people and spells adjusted to the presence of a new soul in its midst, recognising her as <em>ours</em>, drawing her into the circuit that was the living House, both tying her down and lifting her up...</p><p>Okay, that was really fucking cool.</p><p>Evans obviously thought so too, giving her a weak but genuine smile. <em>You should probably stop calling me Evans now,</em> she thought, the mental contact more hesitant than de Mort's, but just as subtle.</p><p>Aster wasn't even surprised. Out of all the things that Evans <em>could</em> have gotten out of this, her awakening as a proper mind mage was definitely at the top of the list. <em>Don't be ridiculous, Evans, you're still </em>you<em>, </em>she thought back, though she wasn't sure Evans caught it.</p><p>Granted, she didn't quite look like herself anymore. Her eyes were the same piercing green, a little too wide and a little too intense, as always, but her hair was darker now — auburn, maybe, there wasn't enough light to tell — and wavier, like de Mort's (or like the illusion she presumed was based on the face he used to have, back before he turned himself into a sparkly lamia princess), and her face more heart-shaped than the thin oval it had been, chin sharper, cheekbones starker, and forehead broader (though that might've been the lack of fringe, hard to tell). Her lips were a little fuller, too, though her mouth, when she gave Aster a tired grin, was still a little too wide for her face.</p><p>She still had hips and breasts that actually warranted the name, so clearly Bella's blood hadn't influenced that too terribly, but her build in general was slimmer now, shoulders narrower, making her proportions more childlike. (Aster was well aware that she looked younger than she was, mostly because her head looked a little too large compared to her chest and shoulders.) It was hard to say how much she'd shrunk, lying not even flat on the ground, but curled on her side and half in Aster's lap as she was, but Aster was certain she'd lost at least a couple of inches. She was probably still taller than Aster, though. De Mort was a whole head taller than Bella.</p><p>Aster probably shouldn't admit that she found her new sister even more attractive, now, but she didn't really care. She also didn't really care how it pulled at her stitches, bending down to press a soft kiss to Evans's lips. "Welcome to the Family, Sister."</p><p>Angel clapped delightedly, breaking the moment. "Perfect! Congratulations, Bella. She's adorable. What are you going to call her?"</p><p>"Mmm, Asphodel?" she suggested, offering Evans a hand up. "I suspect she's accustomed to the names she's been using for the past sixteen years."</p><p>Angel pouted. "But I wanted a namesake."</p><p>"Well, you should have said something about sixteen years ago, then," de Mort told the evil goddess masquerading as a teenager, which did not stop her pouting.</p><p>"Want to officiate the conpatres ceremony, since you're here?" Zee offered.</p><p>"No, that's between you and Bella. I will do the handfasting, though." She made an excited little <em>squee</em> sound. "We're all going to be one big, happy family!"</p><p>De Mort sniggered. "Didn't you kill your family?"</p><p>"Not <em>all</em> of them, obviously," she said, pointing at Bella, Aster, and Evans. "Aaand...oh, yes, those ones, too. Hi, I'm your cousin Angel," she said, introducing herself to Narcissa and Reg.</p><p>"Our...cousin," Cissy repeated. "<em>Angel</em>... I confess, I don't recognise your name. How are we related, exactly?"</p><p>"Well, more <em>aunt</em>, about thirteen times removed, really. Or fifteen. My parents were one of those intergenerational things, shortly after the Covenant was established. And I <em>had</em> to kill them, Thom. Mummy tried to poison me because Daddy started liking me better than her after I made the Choice. And Daddy tried to stop me killing her. And well, I didn't realise how addicting murder could be before I tried it, so I might've killed a few dozen peasants and burned their village to the ground and had to flee Britain and lie low for a few decades after that. Anyway, you all are descended from Mummy's brother Mors."</p><p>"Ah." Cissy didn't seem to know what to say about any of that.</p><p>Bella giggled. "Cissy, Reg, this is Angelos Melinī, Avatar of the Dark." The lovebirds froze, obviously unnerved by casually being informed that they were in the presence of <em>the Dark Itself</em>, and entirely uncertain what to do about it. "Angel, you know Cissy and Regulus through the Family Magic, of course. This is Asphodel's pet, Severus—" He gave her a somewhat jerky bow — not a bad response, it hardly ever hurt to be polite to creatures that might drive you mad for their own amusement. "—and the boy who looks to be having a fit is our newest werewolf recruit, Remus."</p><p>Remus did, in fact, seem to be freaking out a bit, gibbering (silently, probably de Mort's doing) and pressing himself back into the living walls as though he could claw his way out of the circle through sheer desperation. Aster could sympathise with the desire to run and keep running until Angel was a bad but very distant memory, but she really couldn't let Bella's introduction stand, even if it did mean potentially drawing attention to herself. "Remy's not a recruit, Bella! He's not going to be a Death Eater, or a member of Fenrir's pack, he's just hiding here until it's safe for him to go join Starlight!"</p><p>"Much can change in a few months' time," de Mort observed, which had <em>better</em> not be a hint that he was going to convince Remy to change his mind about the Death Eaters.</p><p><em>It's not. Simply noting that it has been less than two months since </em>you <em>were as wholeheartedly opposed to associating with Bella and myself as young Remus.</em></p><p>Yeah, well... <em>Shut up, de Mort.</em></p><p>He didn't, though he did stop thinking at her. "In any case, I suggest we continue with the night's ceremonies before the excitement of her adoption catches up with Asphodel. I understand blood alchemy rituals can be quite exhausting when the high of the magic has worn off."</p><p>"First me, then you?" Zee asked.</p><p>De Mort made a sort of <em>after you</em> gesture toward the three of them at the centre of the circle. As Zee glided forward to join them, Aster retreated. She wasn't needed for this one, and she really should try to assure Remus that he wasn't about to <em>actually die</em>, because he was kind of acting like he was.</p><p>Of course, that was easier said than done, especially distracted as she was by the Family Magic binding Zee to Evans, and through her to Bella. Remus flinched away from her when she tried to lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder, unable to take his eyes off Angel, but almost equally terrified of and repulsed by Aster.</p><p>That hurt.</p><p>It really, <em>really</em> did.</p><p>Especially since she wasn't <em>nearly</em> as scary as <em>the bloody Dark Itself</em>. For fuck's sake, Remus!</p><p>She poked Snape in the shoulder, eyes flicking toward Remus, then the entrance in a silent <em>help me get him outside.</em></p><p>Snape frowned, shaking his head slightly, and jerked his chin toward the quiet drama of the godparenting. <em>I'm staying here, Black</em>.</p><p><em>Fine</em>, but could he at least jam it through Remus's thick bloody skull that he was being excused, since he didn't seem to want to go anywhere with— <em>Oh, never mind</em>, she thought, as Remus abruptly stopped struggling, sidling toward the exit with a sudden calm suggesting that he was no longer in control of his own body. <em>Again.</em></p><p>
  <em>Do take him up to the house. His desire to flee to the arms of a figure of authority and security is giving me a headache.</em>
</p><p>So, take him up to the house and get an elf to sit on him until he calmed down, because if Remus fled to the arms of authority — probably Dumbledore — he'd be executed as a dangerous werewolf fugitive before he could so much as accuse them of black magic. She <em>was</em> supposed to play a part in the little handfasting ceremony for Bella and de Mort, though.</p><p>
  <em>Narcissa can stand in for you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But—</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, for the love of the Dark, Asteria, I'll send Asphodel up with Severus when they're done here. If Angel's officiating the ceremony, that means Mira can witness for me, and the girl's half-dead on her feet anyway.</em>
</p><p>Aster pouted at him across the 'room'. Just because she didn't want to leave Evans wasn't the <em>only</em> reason she didn't want to miss the handfasting. It was important to Bella, she wanted to be there for <em>her</em>.</p><p>Amusement rippled through her. <em>Important, yes, but I would hardly call formalising my relationship with Lady Black and your Family Magic </em>meaningful <em>or especially significant </em>to Bella<em>. She and I have been bound to each other since she accepted my Mark — under terms, I might add, which are far more equitable and reciprocal than many marriage vows. Go.</em></p><p>She went, but only because she did have to concede the fact that Bella probably didn't care as much as Aster was crediting her, given that she and de Mort <em>were</em> practically married already.</p><p>Well, that and she was actually concerned about Remus having a serious breakdown or something, with de Mort repeatedly turning him into a fucking puppet on top of the difficulties thinking around the oppressive aura of dark magic that Angel had brought with her. Aster might not be <em>comfortable</em> around that kind of power anymore, but she was <em>familiar </em>with it, at least. She could <em>function</em> around it, rather than gibbering incoherently and trying to claw her way through a bloody palisade without taking her eyes off the witch at the centre of it. Remus, clearly, not so much. And suddenly finding his body out of his control had to make this even <em>more</em> like some horrible nightmare. (At least being Imperiused felt nice while it was happening. Puppeteering, not so much.) He hadn't particularly been comfortable with what they were doing even <em>before</em> Angel arrived.</p><p>They probably shouldn't have invited him, but he was one of Evans's oldest friends, probably second only to Snape, and she hadn't wanted to exclude him, especially when he was already <em>here</em>. And Aster had honestly thought he'd be able to handle it. He was, after all, friends with Evans <em>and </em>Aster, he should be used to them occasionally coming out with disturbing shite by now. And how many opportunities did anyone have in this day and age to witness a blood-alchemy ritual of any sort? She could think of at least two-dozen people who would <em>literally kill</em> to be invited to a Black Family Ritual. Remy was enough of a Ravenclaw-ish nerd, she'd expected him to be thrilled, even for just academic curiosity. Something to cheer him up and distract him a bit, since he was still so down over his entire life being a complete shambles at the moment.</p><p>She jerked her head toward the small break in the circle, indicating <em>fine</em>, de Mort should get Remus the fuck out of here, and turned to follow. Bella caught her eye for a brief second in the midst of her ritual and nodded, either permission for Aster to go or acknowledgment of the fact that she was leaving. Either way, she didn't seem particularly annoyed. Angel doubtless was aware of what was going on, but she was clearly just amused, twiddling her fingers at Aster in farewell. Aster, uncertain what the expected response to such a gesture might be, nodded warily, slipping into the short passage.</p><p>A moment later she emerged into the crisp coolness of the night air. Devoid of smoke from the candles and the warmth of too many people in too small a space and overwhelming dark magic, it felt thin. Refreshing. A little bit like being exiled from a feast, when you knew all the excitement was happening inside, but also a little bit of a relief, like being given an excuse to step out when you weren't really in the mood for a party and the excitement was a little overwhelming.</p><p>De Mort's area of influence was, Aster thought, hindered by the <em>de facto</em> circle formed by the trees. She could see the traces of his magic on the air when she looked in just the right way, and they stopped abruptly at the edge of the copse.</p><p>Of course, the fact that Remus stumbled as soon as he escaped its clutches, looking back briefly with an expression of horror, and then took off running in <em>completely</em> the wrong direction — the only thing that way for at least half a mile was an old orchard and an abandoned cider mill — also kind of gave away the fact that his mind was his own again.</p><p>Aster tagged him with a tripping jinx before he got more than twenty meters or so away from her, followed by a sound-softening charm to quiet his incoherent shrieks of anger and fear, and a nifty little light charm aurors used to calm witnesses (and everyone else used on children who'd just woken up from particularly bad nightmares, according to Cassie). By the time she caught up, he was kneeling with his head down, breathing heavily, but no longer screaming, so she lifted the sound charm.</p><p>"Sorry, Remy. Not exactly fit for playing chase at the moment. If you want to run off screaming in terror Sunday night, I'll be happy to join you — been a while since I've gone for a nighttime jog — but until then, please restrict all panicking to a moderate walking pace. Cheers."</p><p>"You're—" He panted for a moment. "—not funny."</p><p>"Nonsense, I'm hilarious, ask anyone."</p><p>Remy glared up at her. "What — the fuck?! You— He— That snake-faced bastard, he—"</p><p>"Took over your body, because he's a twat like that, yeah, I know. I already bitched at him for it. He, as usual, gives approximately zero fucks about my opinion on him being a total creep. I'd say we can go back so you can have it out with him, but he <em>is</em> in your mind when he does that. He already knows how you feel about it. Pretty sure he gets off on horror and violation, so I'd just as soon deny him the pleasure. And also, we'd be interrupting."</p><p>"No, we— I... I just want to wake up. <em>I want to wake up</em>," he repeated more urgently.</p><p>"Er...Remy, mate? You are awake."</p><p>"No, no, I can't be, it's all— With the— I couldn't control myself, Siri! I couldn't <em>move!</em> And <em>Lily</em>— That was— It was <em>horrible!</em> And that <em>thing</em>, that evil, <em>evil</em> thing— You <em>snogged Bellatrix!</em> You <em>called her your mum</em>, and you <em>snogged her!</em> And the— Before that, my <em>life</em>, that poor woman— I can't— Siri, I <em>can't</em>, I just..." he trailed off, sniffling. Aster knelt beside him rather gingerly, mindful of the painful twinges from where she'd fallen to her knees beside Evans earlier, unthinking. "<em>Please,</em> just let me wake up..."</p><p>"You are awake," Aster repeated, suddenly very aware that she was completely out of her depth here. She was <em>far</em> more comfortable on the <em>having a mental breakdown</em> side of this sort of thing, thanks ever so. Trying to hold the hand of someone who didn't even want her laying a hand on his shoulder — he shrugged her off, <em>again</em> — while he came to terms with the fact that his nightmare was actually real life, and there was nothing to be done about that, was not a thing she had ever done, and didn't even sound like the sort of thing she <em>could</em> do. She was <em>definitely</em> going to fuck this up...</p><p>...<em>Or</em>...</p><p>Yeah, that seemed like a <em>much</em> better idea — on his knees only an arm's length away, Remus didn't even have a chance to register her silent sleeping charm, let alone dodge it. He slumped to the ground, entirely unconscious. <em>Good</em>. Now she just needed to make sure that someone more capable of dealing with his nervous breakdown would be on hand when he woke up, which probably wouldn't be until daybreak, so. Problem solved.</p><p>And just in time — she heard Evans and Snape struggling free of the copse, already engaged in a sleepy argument over whether they should try to go back to school tonight. Snape, of course, was attempting to be the voice of reason, insisting that they stay here and let Evans sleep off the transformation, while she claimed, almost incoherently, to be perfectly capable of maintaining an illusion of her former features and sneaking back into the school.</p><p>"So, she definitely got Bella's complete lack of awareness of her own limits," Aster giggled (<em>ow</em>), levitating Remy across the lawn to join them.</p><p>"I'm torn between questioning the notion that the Blackheart <em>has</em> limits, and noting that Lily has never had much respect for her own anyway, Black," Snape said, drily as ever.</p><p>"Oh, shush, you. What happened to Remus?"</p><p>"Shush yourself, Evans. He was exhausted by all the excitement. And don't be stupid, you're staying here tonight."</p><p>"But <em>Aster</em>, I'm <em>fine</em>..."</p><p>Snape stole Aster's idea, hitting her overtired sister in the back with a sleeping charm as well. "Don't give me that look, Black," he said defensively. "It was for her own good. And you have no room to judge." He raised a very pointed eyebrow in the general direction of the hovering, unconscious werewolf.</p><p>"Look? What look? I'm not giving any look. Clearly Evans was equally exhausted by all the excitement. And that post-metamorphosis crash can be a total bitch, coming on out of nowhere — almost like getting hexed in the back." She <em>really</em> couldn't help the smirk that accompanied her words.</p><p>"Oh, piss off. I presume there are beds to spare in that ridiculous, sprawling manse?"</p><p>"What a stupid fucking question. Of course there are. Come on." She continued leading the way toward the building at the infuriatingly slow pace which was the fastest she could comfortably manage at the moment. New moon <em>could not</em> come quickly enough.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, that was a thing. </p><p>Also, the last thing in this cluster of chapters. </p><p>Someone asked me to post the ridiculous Buffy crossover, so that'll be going up here and on ffn one chapter/day for the next few weeks.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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